Snow is made by tiny white demons who only want to bring you down

I was supposed to fly home today. Unfortunately today God decided to ruin Christmas, which is ironic.

I had planned to be brave and truck it up to Denver, because I have a healthy car and a good amount of sense about driving in the snow. But first I had to drive to the office out east of Academy to drop off some papers and some keys I accidentally stole. Everyone for the day program was stranded, and the guy with austism was going crazy. "Hello, Lindsay, how are you, Lindsay?" "I'm good," I say, yelling "fuck you" in my head to the copier who has some type of obnoxious misfeed I can't wait for. "Hello, Lindsay, how are you, Lindsay?" he says again. "You already asked me that," I say. Usually after this pattern is repeated he says, "Okay, I'll stop" and saunters quickly away to ask someone else, but today he just kept going. "Does Jamie like it when I talk to her? Does Jamie like it when I touch her?" Jamie can't stand him and he knows it. "Did you see the whale on my sweater? Did you see the sea turtle on my sweater?" Yes. I like his sweater that says, "Gotta Regatta."

I rushed out of there but as I was hurriedly brushing off my car I hit my nail on the scraper, breaking it halfway down and making my finger bleed. It sucked. I got it wrapped up and continued determinedly on. I was a little Subby that could.

It took about 20 minutes to even get down to I-25, and once I was on it, I thought, "This isn't too bad! I can do this!" That was, until I realized that every so often a giant cloud of white would enfold my car, obscuring everything but the few feet of road in front of me. My windshield wipers were icing up constantly.

I managed to get off at the exit for Academy, which would normally be about 20 minutes from home, and pulled into the first thing I saw, the Best Western. I called my dad and told him I couldn't make it. He told me my flight was canceled. I went into the hotel expecting a small lobby and was instead met with some kind of huge garden-like atrium with big green canvas umbrellas suspended from the high ceiling. Water features were abound, and an indoor pool right there, in the lobby. I realized the effect they were going for was "outside." Except, if outside looked like this, I wouldn't be here. There were also huge poinsettias perched on top of the fountain with gold angels hovering above them, also with poinsettias in their hands. Deer rested on some kind of cotton snow covered bridge on the other mini-pool. And, I just saw this, there is a Christmas tree made of stuffed animals above the front desk. Plus, unsettling Christmas songs have been playing all day. Christmas songs are making me unhappy. They are musically sneering at me.

Through many calls to Southwest, I am now scheduled to go to Albany on December 25. I have never had a Christmas where I haven't woken up in my childhood bed, and it's something I'm oddly sentimental about. It just doesn't feel right. If I'm not in New York, Christmas is leaving me behind.

You know who's orchestrating the War on Christmas? God, with the weather in his pocket. Maybe I'll go up to the emergency shelter up at New Life and declare my Truth. But they might have given me a room here because an eighteen-wheeler is stuck behind my car and a snowdrift is in front of me. I've been here for about 6 hours now, and the hotel is turning into an unexpectedly thriving economy. The line has been out the door for the last three hours and people are actually frequenting the wierd smelling restaraunt that is shingled to look like it's "outside."

And music, I do not agree that everything's okay if we just let it snow or whatever. Today I welcome global warming.