A big ol’ cold pool

It’s snowing again. Like, a lot.

It’s weird to look outside and see the sheer volume of snow. If it were warmer, the snow would all be rain. Casting my eyes across the front yard- stacked maybe a metre high in places- it’s basically just a ton of water waiting for the sun, so it can piss off elsewhere. Until then, it’s just stuck there. So in some ways it’s almost like I have a temporary pool, albeit with fluffy water. Sure, it’s a pain in the arse that has little benefit and means I’ve got shovelling work to do, but also it’s kind of pretty. Then again, a ton of people who own pools don’t even use them. They just lounge around their expensive status symbol. Maybe there’s some way to make a yard full of snow cool. Could I get a couple of mates to bring loungers over, wrap up in snow gear, then sit around drinking spiked hot chocolate while we listen to chillwave? We could sit out on the porch, with the contents of a two-four submerged in the snowy yard. Oooh, we could even have one of those outdoor heaters and watch the world go by.

I think when I imagined coming to Canada, I expected I’d interact with snow a ton more. Realistically, it’s mostly an imposition. It makes walking more arduous. It’s occasionally cause for accidents. It’s ruined two of our doors so far this winter. It necessitates bringing cumbersome extra layers that are fine while outside, but as soon as you get on the subway or into the office they’re just sweat traps. Not to mention having to bring extra shoes with me everywhere because I don’t want to wear chunky boots for casual indoor strolling. Look. I know I’m never not advocating for everyone to adopt cheesy 80s futuristic style silver bodysuits, but hear me out. Slap some nanobots in those badboys, and create some kind of adaptive temperature control. No matter where you go you’re always at your ideal body temp, AND if you get abducted and forced into some kind of intergalactic adventure you’re already dressed for it.

You know, as a kid I had this deep seated belief that at any moment I could be whisked away to a fantasy world. It sounds silly, but so many of the shows/movies I watched had that whole “Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court” thing going on. I wasn’t physically prepared, but you better believe that I wouldn’t have batted an eye if some portal opened out of nowhere. I’d jump in head first. My brain had sponged up these infinite storylines to the point where part of me still thinks it’s weird that it’s never happened. Like, deep down maybe this is why I’ve never really fit in anywhere. Because there’s a place I’m supposed to be and it’s just a quick alternate dimension away. Give me all the shit you want for this, but really it’s no less silly than a lot of societal beliefs. Is the idea that I’m meant to be battling dragons or something in a mirror universe really dumber than all this anti-vaxxer wank? Or like, all that anti-abortion rhetoric? What’s more likely, that I’m destined to lead the kingdom out of darkness and into salvation? Or that scientifically proven eradication of preventable diseases is actually giving our kids autism, when the guy who claimed that has since been very debunked?

I think you all know the answer.

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