The queen of the Prarie Dogs, that's me.
This morning I woke up to 12" of snow and frozen roads. I called work and was going to not go in but my boss said
"Oh the main roads are fine". (Translation) Come in to work now.
So I went down the road and only got stuck 6 times before I reached a main artery. The main street was not
FINE or anything close to fine. There was ice covered with the 12" of cast off snow of a thousand other cars.
As I went along, I started hearing a strange noise. I thought it was the sound of my engine vibrating on the
chunky road. About 10 minutes into the trip I realized it was a familiar noise. The noise the universe makes
when it cocks the let's f-with-Liz gun. Yes, I had ANOTHER flat tire in Prarie Dog City. This was one of the brand new
tires. It was virtually in the same position on my car as the last one. I pulled over to inspect the damage.
However, after considering the semi sliding on the ice toward my little Kia in a giant pile of snow now serving as
the side of the road I decided that $100.00 for a new tire beats the crap out of death by smoosh and drove on the tire
all the way to the nearest WalMart. $ 89.00 later, I made it to work alive and poor.
I earned the undying respect of all the Prairie Dogs under that 4 or 5 feet of snow for getting my car out of
their field, and am now an official carrier of the plague having parked there twice to change a tire.
Happy Spring.