It's snowing here in Chicagoland. As a matter of fact, we are actually having a real, bundle up and break out your lawn chairs to save your parking spot kind of Chicago snowstorm. For some people, particularly those under the age of 18, this is a day of great joy because almost all the schools around here are cancelled (although not the world-renowned Chicago Public School system because they seem to have some official policy that resembles that of the US Postal Service - come wind or snow or sleet, whatever, you truants get to class!). However, if you happen to be a college student who PAYS for the education, particularly a nursing student who pays EXTRA, get over it because even if there is heavy snow with 40 mph gusts of winds? That's right, you are going to clinical.

In my defense, I tried to go to clinical. I dragged myself out of bed early to maniacally check the weather and school cancellations. I prayed for my clinical instructor to call and just tell me to go back to my warm and heavenly bed; the roads were bad and it would be dangerous to drive 20 miles to the suburbs. In the dark. Of course, that call never came, but one of the girls in my clinical group did call to say her car wouldn't start.

In the irony that is my life, I assured her I could pick her up, then went out to the car to discover mine wouldn't start either. Seriously. It always starts. Eventually that old beast roared to life, only to sputter out. Then start again, hesitantly. Eventually Joshua and I decided to give it a whirl around the block just to make sure I could make it.

This is the part of the story where I should mention that both Joshua and I have a torrid love affair with bad weather. He missed his calling as a meterologist, but makes up for it with breathless updates on any and all storms in all areas of the country.
("Babe! It's hailing in Tennessee. It's the size of golf balls!"
"Joshua, do we know anyone in Tennessee?"
"No, but the HAIL! Is the size of GOLF BALLS!")
Anyways, I grew up in on the East Coast, which I like to mention excessively, but in this case it's appropriate because we know snow back east. I absolutely love a good dumping of snow, but I narrowly escaped death on small New England highways in whiteouts several times, so I have a complex about driving in it. And Joshua likes the weather to be as badass and dangerous as possible in order to AVOID having to go out in it.

So there we were, in the Little Car That Wouldn't, slipping down the side roads of our neighborhood while I talked to all the poor people I am responsible for bringing to clinicals. Then we thought - let's see how the main roads are! I pulled a left turn onto the main road...and kept turning left...and the back of the car kept sliding to the right...and voila!

Perpendicular to the road. I called my clinical instructor and told her that I had made one left turn that morning, which had turned into one spectacular spin-out, and sorry, but we're not coming.

This is of course, a drama, because I have not yet figured out how to escape drama. How will we make up clinicals? Do we have to pay our instructor? - yes, they told us this would be a possibility if we couldn't make it. What if we have no money to pay our instructor? How can our instructor force us to pay when we almost took a spin into The Great Beyond at 6am? (what if that last question was also a little bit dramatic and slightly blown out of proportion?)

And why the hell haven't they cancelled our night classes?