Snowy with a Chance of Anxiety

As much as I’d love to have a miniature Roberto to keep in my pocket for snow emergencies, I fully understand that he was a onetime deal. Since my car skidded on the snow a couple of weeks ago causing me to crash (minorly) into the curb, I’ve had a range of anxiety attacks about driving in the snow. This panic is compounded each time I have to park or leave my current parking spot. 

If you haven’t had the divine pleasure of seeing the jerks that save parking spots in Chicago, then check out this site. Except now that I’m parking street-side this winter, I really, really want to be one of those jerks. When trying to leave my spot tonight, I couldn’t get out. My tires simply spun in place. I got out my now broken shovel (thank you pile of snow shit yesterday!) and attempted to remove any big piles. Then a car pulled up, the inhabitants watching me. Nothing happened. I got back in my car and turned off the engine. Guess that means no salsa class tonight!

Yesterday, I patrolled the streets looking for an easy place to park. My heart started thumping in my chest, my palms got damp even before I pulled into my neighborhood. Parking in the snow is giving me a high dose of anxiety. Thoughts of snowy drifts pervaded my dreams last night. For what seemed like hours I pictured crashing into the curb, hitting hunks of snow, and driving for miles looking for easy enough parking. My heart is even beating faster as I write this. 

I need my car for many things, so how do I get over my fear? Do I dig myself out tomorrow and become *that asshole* with folding chairs and baby gates? Do I practice hopping snow drifts until I no longer fear them? For now, I’m going to lay on the couch, day dreaming of kicking winter’s ass and being a pro at parking over snow humps. 

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