Perhaps it is the cabin fever speaking here, but I have been a bit annoyed by all these yetis, doing their yeti things.
I went searching for my car again, which the night before was skillfuly hidden within 4 feet of frozen snow and ice.
Tonight, like the night before, I found it buried… or rather I did not find it buried, but did find it once I unburied it.
Cleaning it off again was refreshingly counter-productive – what with the yetis and all; By the time I cleared off the entire thing, the front half was covered again by yeti magic.
So, I started over, this time keeping one eye on the car, one eye on the snow-covered yeti-bushes, and the rest of them on the nearby roads;
By this point, I too, was covered, and looking dangerously similar to a “snow bank” – which people around here like to hunt for sport with their angry-bumpered SUV-mobiles, swerving back and forth in random fashion, in order to catch the unfortunate snows off guard.
In my head, I could just see myself smashed to a pulp and hanging over a Michigonian mantle, its owner scratching his ice-planet helmet-hair with a wire hanger… letting people poke at my stuffed rump with a corndog for a used hockey puck and a can of chew (twice that amount if they bear the flannel of an enemy tribe).
“I bagged this oon at aboot two o cloock”, he would say “he were mating with a femeel snow bank whoon I seens im in my windshield…”
“No… I do not want to end up in that sort of mess” I said to myself “…again”, looking left then right, and right again.
It was then that I noticed my car was once-again covered.
… Tomorrow, I buy a gun.