Metalkabout it's snowing!

You looked out the window this morning to see a city blanketed in a pristine white layer of snow.  "Snow!" you say, "Holy shit! We need to motor.  Get the sleds! Get the snowboards! Get the flask full of Whiskey! It's time to go drunk sledding!"

  

You said this to yourself, forgetting that just last night your girlfriend of five years left you to finally be with Jeremy, your now-ex-best friend and Yoga instructor at the JWC.  When she walked out, she said: 

"I will miss you, Derek (sniff, sniff)," she said, "but this is for the best."

"The best!?!" you quizzed her. "The best as in 'Fuck yeah! This is the best fucking time of my life?  Or the best as in man this cake is the best tasting cake I've ever tasted?  Or the best as in oh wow ... I am so getting fucked in the ass by the world right now because my girlfriend is leaving me and it is absolutely the best thing that has ever happened to me?'  Is that what you mean when you say 'It's for the best, Karen?'"

  

Karen gave you the finger, saying, "You know what I fucking mean, Derek!" and walked out.

"No, Karen, I do not know what you mean," you whispered, tears running down your cheeks.

Karen sent her little brother, Dwight, over an hour later to collect her belongings. He took everything, even her sled, her skis, and her snowboard. She left you with nothing.

So now, while the pain from being recently dumped is heavy on your heart and really bumming you out, it's the fact that your dreams to go sledding have been dashed that's truly made your depressed. 

   

But then you remember the flask — your flask — full of whiskey.  "Karen didn't take that," you think.  "Karen did fuck everything up." And with that, you take the first drink of many today.  

You will go drunk sledding after all.  

Even if it only happens in your drunken, broken-hearted mind.

Hooray snow!