To The OCD Snowblower, Just Keep Blowing

I admit that I have a few teeny, tiny quirks. I will list some of them here so that you and I can establish trust. After I have shared my vulnerability with you, this will enable me to talk about what an ASSHOLE my next door neighbor is, and I will have credibility.

It helps when you have therapists for relatives.

My teeny, tiny quirks, then:

1) I leave cupboard doors open. I don’t know why. I’m pretty sure it’s genetic because my mom and brother do the same thing. 2) I haphazardly turn off lights to save on electricity, even when it’s dungeon-dark and even if someone (Kealoha) is in the room. 3) I wear socks to bed because my feet are ice cold ALL THE TIME. 4) As soon as I am in bed, my feet heat up to coal furnaces and I kick the socks off. 5) There are sometimes four to five pairs of socks trapped at the bottom of my bed. Sometimes one makes a death defying leap and escapes. 6) I get anxious about socializing, driving, flying, working, eating, and relaxing.

There. So, see, I’m not entirely normal. We all have tender pieces of our soul.

That said…

THE NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOR IS AN ASSHOLE.

There. I said it.

Maybe asshole is too tough. Really? I mean, who can blame a guy for snowblowing his yard, especially when there’s two inches of the white stuff? Two inches is A LOT. I don’t blame him for not using a shovel. I DO blame him for having a snowblower that also seems to serve as a walker, thus enabling even an octogenarian to snowblow a yard. But faster than the guy next door.

snowblowing

He has a small yard. And he goes over every single inch of it in the slow, heel to toe pace. Now, mind you, this is in the middle of the day when I’m trying to record from my home studio. It’s not his fault that I sometimes work from home. I don’t blame him for that. But could he please, please blow his yard in a half hour and not THREE? Could he please, please, blow with the snowblower and not switch to a LEAF BLOWER until he’s uncovered the crisp frozen grass underneath?

No one should blow that long.

At least for free.

And with that, I release my anger into the wind like a kite in a strong breeze. Fly away, kite. Fly.