Friday, December 6, 2013

How To Be A Derp In Winter

I promise I won't do many of these posts, but today is an exception. I'm not usually one for breaking down my day. I'm not exactly very good at it but I need to get this out there so here goes! 

So yesterday was a gong show. It was a comedy of errors and catastrophes all jumbled up into one insane compilation of hours. 

To get the full effect of that day, we need to go back. 

My job at this time of the year is utter and perfect chaos. My office is a melting pot of shenanigans and craziness, and while I am the Chandler Bing of my friends (take this to mean they know I work in an office but have NO idea what exactly I do), most of them know that I turn into a hermit from 8-5 until after Christmas is over. Don't worry, my sunny disposition remains intact and my sarcasm flows with a smile, but I'm usually so stressed out by stuff that happens at work that my home life becomes me drinking my house madly and cleaning wine. 


Anywho, this week has been no exception to the Christmas rule. It involved a mass error that resulted in my paycheque being SERIOUSLY screwed up and me having to run to the bank to fix it before my mortgage went through. 

I'm getting ahead of myself. 

If you aren't from Winnipeg, then you won't quite understand how crappy the roads were yesterday morning. Now, we got a lot- A. LOT.- of snow. My street ends in a field that has no protection to keep more snow from blowing in. This means that if it's windy, my street is going to become a tundra maze of half-baked ruts, squealing tires, and people standing in snow banks looking dejectedly at their submersed vehicles. 

Thursday morning, the love of my life and holder of the Greatest Husbandplfug Ever trophy got up extra early so that he could shovel out our patio, parking pad, front walkway, around my car, and scrape off my windshield (LOVE YOU). He did all this so that I could stay all shnuggled up in bed a little bit longer and I love him for it soooo sosososososososo much. Seriously. 

However, even after all of that, I STILL managed to get stuck five times just trying to get down my road and around the back lane. For those of you keeping track, I drive a Civic named Alfred. He's pretty much the bomb and I adore him, but powerful in the winter he is not. My car is also standard, a fact of which I am very proud and which comes in extremely handy in the winter. I can rock myself out of just about any snowy situation. 


So, I left work early to get to my bank before it closed (curse you bank hours!!) and when I walked in I saw one of my neighbours. We chatted about how absolutely disgusting our street was and how hard it was to get out of it that morning. We laughed to keep from crying over the fact that we would have to brave it to get home. It was a real bonding moment. She also got stuck and we were discussing effective techniques to get unstuck. Concerned and lovely as always, she made sure I knew how to get myself out of trouble and I assured her I was an old pro at it by now. 

Then Life decided to be like, "Oh... A 'pro' are we? LEMON!!" 

Life threw a lemon directly at my face. 

I had juuuust left the bank, I'm talking not even a minute here, got in my car, backed out of my spot, and narrowly missed a pole. I went, "Whew! That was close! I forgot that marker for the end of the boulevard was right there! Better go around it!"


Yeah... that marker was for the MIDDLE of the boulevard which was covered in snow. Not the end. I ended up with my front tires on one side and my rear tires on the other. Oooooof course. 

Now I couldn't just go back into the bank and be like, "Yeah... I'm stuck." My pride and general shame would not allow for that. So I did the next best thing.

"Hey Brian. Yeah... It's Alexandra. I'm stuck." 

In a crisis, always call your step-dad. I'm pretty sure mine knows what to expect when I call now. He didn't even ask how I got stuck, he just laughed and asked where I was. This man knows me well. Needless to say, without hesitation, he and my younger brother, Mike, piled into the car to come and help their inept Alexandra. At this point I called my husband who was at a course and told him what happened. He also didn't ask how I got stuck. Just laughed and said he could come and help my Papa and brother get me out as soon as he got back into that end of town. 

People, for my pride's sake, please start asking how I got stuck instead of just accepting that it's me and that I probably did something really stupid. Give me that chance to say I got stuck avoiding a toddler chasing a frightened kitten or I bravely used my car to protect other cars from the villainous boulevard. Anything. 

Anyways, I waited in my car with my head against the wheel screaming wordlessly to myself about my own stupidity. I got a few strange looks from passing cars, but that's okay.


My step dad and brother finally showed up and as they got out of the car I could see the smiles from where I was. It was the look of exasperation only people who have lived with me can master. So I got behind the wheel after we decided pushing me backwards would be the best bet and made ready to get the hell off that boulevard. Just as they were about to give it the old college try, we were completely surrounded by enormous trucks! Four trucks just apparated out of nowhere. It was amazing! 

One of them parked right behind me and the guy got out to come and help. Big burly guys descended from their storm-smoosher trucks and in a matter of seconds they were out front of Alfred the Civic with my step dad and brother. The guy who had parked behind me came up to my window and said, "Honey, I think it's going to be best if we just lift your car off the boulevard." 

Okay there, Bruce Banner, lift away! 

He rejoined his band of heroes and they gave me the okay to hit the gas as they lifted- LIFTED- my whole front end off of the boulevard. In my excitement to finally be free from the tyrannical hold of the concrete prison, I forgot one teeny-tiny-but-ever-so-crucial-teensy-weensy detail. 

Remember how I said the guy who helped me parked right behind my car? 

Yeah... I was in reverse.

I was happy! Carefree! Ecstatic to be off of the curb- when all I hear is, "HONEY!! STOP! STOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHP!!" 

I slammed on the brakes when I saw the horrified expressions of the men on the other side of my windshield. 

Folks, I missed the guys truck by maaaaaaaybe an inch. My step dad said it was less than that. 

How much of a derp do you have to be to almost take off the grill of the car of the guy who just helped you get unstuck? The answer is me. You have to be me to be that much of a derp. 

In my fluster and embarrassment all I could do was shout incoherent apologies and thanks from my window as the guy drove away.

So those guys that helped me and particularly the guy whose truck I almost broke are the reason for this post. I want to put it out on the internet that four random strangers stopped what they were doing to help an idiot derp who almost wrecked their shiny truck get off of a boulevard. People like them are what the world needs more of. And people like my step dad and brother who dropped what they were doing to come and help me. And my husband who, when I got home after telling him I'd been helped, still had on his winter coat in expectation of a phone call saying I had gotten myself stuck again and wanted to be ready to come and help me. 

Thank you, kind random strangers. If somehow this gets back to you, if by some miracle you see this, I just want you to know that I owe you some Tim's and an actual thank you. Not some gibberish that was shouted from my half-open window in a moment of sheer panic. 

Thank you thank you thank you. I can only hope that if ever you are in need, someone as fantastic as all of you is there to help get you home. 

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