Blizzard

Denver is under a Blizzard Warning for the umpteenth time this winter. 

I'm fairly indifferent to winter as it exists in Denver, as even at its worst, a Denver winter is nothing like the uphill-both-ways-Amy-Poehler-vortexes I remember from my youth in Minnesota.  Plus, a good snowstorm gets me out of work (with pay!).  This is a very significant positive.

The downside is that every time it snows, I am convinced that I must purchase a new car.  I envision my little glorified golf cart sliding through intersections and perhaps off a cliff, leading to my premature death.  This is a problem because I am far too pretty to die.  It's also a big problem because I would be really quite lost if I encountered a cliff between my apartment and my workplace.  (As far as I know, cliffs of death are not a thing in the City of Denver.  I think it is because Mayor Hancock can't make parking ticket revenue off them.)

Once the snow clears, I am reminded that certain death by vehicular winter nonsense isn't nearly as scary as the prospect of having a car payment again.

Let's just hope that Bomb Cyclone: The Sequel passes by without me buying an Audi or a Subaru. But let's be honest, there's never any reason to buy a Subaru.

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