I HATE SNOW AND HATE YOU FOR LIKING SNOW

Furious. Have been shoveling snow all goddamn morning, and I am sick of it, and because I was an idiot that parked in the parkling lot behind Shakespeare Street, there is so much snow I have no hope of moving my car. I had assumed that the lot would get plowed and save me some work, but nope, it's surrounded by a foot and a half of snow that I can't drive through. Mercifully didn't have work today, but I don't know how the hell I'm going to get to work tomorrow. Also I want to murder my parents, who are pissed at me for getting the car stuck in the first place, and have not made a single helpful suggestion this entire process. Fucking sorry I called them at all.

I hate snow. And I hate all of you who like snow. Clearly you don't have a goddamn car to dig out or icy roads to slide on. You all can fucking deal with all this bullshit if you like snow so much.

I meant to spend today writing, but I am too upset right now.

Grateful

It is incredibly hard for me to ask for help, from anyone, with anything. I feel like if I have a problem, especially if it's my own fault I have that problem, it's my responsibility to fix it. I hate to be irresponsible, or weak, or incapable, and I hate to impose on or take anything from anyone else. I get ashamed when there are witnesses to my screwup, or worse, my inability to handle it myself. And even when seeking help is otherwise reasonable or acceptable in all other ways, there's always part of me that can't help but think, "Why would anyone want to help me?" 

Bernie, Matt, and Jonathan dug my car out for me. It was an incredibly kind and loving thing to do, and it means more to me than I can say that they were willing to do it. I am inexpressibly grateful.

Thank you.