|Driving in snow shouldn't turn into a game of bumper cars.|
I know you're behind me, swearing a blue streak and calling me every form of "idiot" you can think of. I know that you're screaming for me to get off the road, and believe me, I wish I could. I wish I could be anywhere but driving in the snow.
But what you don't know is how petrified I am. You don't know that I've had accidents in the snow and am terrified that it will happen again. That's why I drive so slowly and leave plenty of space between me and the car in front of me in case I have to stop, or in case I start to slide. Invariably, someone will pull into the space I've left between me and the person in front of me. I'm a nervous wreck.
I'm watching you in my rearview mirror and you're riding my bumper and all I can think is that as soon as I start to slide, you will, too -- right into me. You're actually making things worse because I see that you're too close and I'm pumping my brake in case I have to stop. I want to make sure you can stop, too.
Honking your horn won't make me move faster. In fact, I can barely hear it over my whimpering and chanting. Oh my God, oh my God. Every muscle in my body is as stiff as rigor mortis. I am clutching my steering wheel for dear life. Do you understand that?
I know you're back there, yelling for me to move, or get over. I would if I could. The very thought of pulling over and across the paths of the tires before me is akin to jumping out of a plane without a parachute. It's just not going to happen. If you're so brave, you pull into the untouched snow and go around me. I can't do it.
Sorry you're behind me. It's going to take a while. Believe me, I won't be on the road a minute or a mile longer than I have to.