Having To Clean Snow Off Your Car Is The Most Demoralizing Part About Winter
You can fight it all you want. You can bitch and moan until the cows come home but none of that is going to change the fact that it is fucking freezing outside. It’s colder than shit out there. There’s snow on the ground and at any given moment the heavens could open up and dump another fresh, frosty load that makes the roads and sidewalks we traverse a slipery, icy hellscape.
But I’m of the idea that winter is good for the soul. It toughens you up and it makes you appreciate the warm months more so than the spoiled brats who live down south and don’t have to deal with it. Eventually you submit.
You just accept the fact that it’s cold outside and continue on living your life with a few more layers on than you usually would. For car owners like myself though that have to drive to work everyday without the convenience of a covered garage, life never gets easier. I don’t dread winter. I really don’t mind walking around when it’s ten or fifteen degrees out. What I do mind is the work that goes along with getting my car ready to go in the morning after it snows.
I don’t have a fancy new car with auto remote start. I drive a 2008 Chevy Impala with all-cloth interior and it takes a good fifteen to twenty minutes for it to get toasty in there. When I wake up in the morning and see that it has snowed overnight, my heart fills with dread knowing the job that lies ahead of me.
I’m going to have to put my heavy duty boots and large, oversized winter jacket that was a hand me down from my dad and trudge my ass outside. Next, I’ll have to open my drivers side door, which, after it snows, will sprinkle cold, fresh snow onto the drivers seat upon opening. After I grab the ice pick from the passenger side floor, I’ll turn the car on and let it warm up. Then the real work begins.
I’ll brush, scrape, and pick at snow and ice on the windshield and back window. I pick the frozen ice off of my windshield wipers as snow falls into my boots and touches my bare ankles. I’ll sigh, wondering why I continue to live in the midwest.
And some ten to fifteen minutes later, I’ll finally have the car cleared off and ready to drive and I’ll forget how miserable I was until the next time it snows and I have to do this all over again. Cleaning your car off is the hardest, most soul crushing aspect of winter in a place like Chicago and it’ll never get easier. You just have to grin and bear it.