Day 612 (Yes, I’m Still Keeping Track): The Tribe Survives a Blizzard, Cabin Fever Sets in For the Natives

The great blizzard of 2013 shall be known forever as, well a rather large snow event causing massive amounts of snow to be deposited throughout the region.  In other words, a shit load of snow fell, making it difficult to do anything requiring travel.  Anywhere.  Except by tauntaun.  Overall, the tribe faired pretty well during the snowpocolypse – no power was lost to the abode, no massive tree trunks were found crashing into the tribe’s living quarters, none of the tribe catching hypothermia – yep, it was a pretty uneventful weekend.  Oh.  Except for that slight case of cabin fever.

For those who have never experienced cabin fever, or been in the presence of anyone who is experiencing cabin fever, the feeling is similar to being locked in a 10 x 10 room with your family.  For a week.  With no electronic media box.  Just you and them.  And your words.  It’s not pretty.

For the most part, I can withstand being enclosed in a relatively small area for long periods of time.  Yes, I’ll get bored and perhaps the urge to kill someone might crop up but it is certainly doable.  The natives, on the other hand, are an entirely different story.  It has been only five days since they appeared outside of the tribal abode, yet through their behavior and actions, I would guess that it had been months since they had seen the out-of-doors for themselves.  Their behavior has been both interesting and frightening to observe – interesting in that it makes you wonder what mischievous thoughts are being processed by their little brains, frightening in that it makes you wonder what mischievous thoughts are being processed by their little brains.  To accurately comprehend and experience the downward spiral that their behavior has taken place since Wednesday last, one needs to know their story.  And here it goes.

Wednesday, two days before the Snowpocolypse:

The day began as usual, and their behavior was leaps and bounds better than the previous day; terrible Tuesday was essentially that: terrible.  The natives continued to fight epically throughout the day causing me much distress.  However, that was Tuesday.  Wednesday was much better.  I dressed the natives for an excursion out to the local post master and then returned to the abode, unscathed.  Bullet dodged.  You see, each time I take the natives out for an excursion, it has the possibility of being a delightful (that’s being overly positive) trip or being a nightmarish hell that I would not wish upon my worst enemy.  Wednesday was a “delightful” trip, thus, bullet dodged.  Preparations began for the snowpocolypse – which was still two days away.

Thursday, the day before the Snowpocolypse:

As good as Wednesday was, Thursday was worse.  It was as though I became a mute for the day or they became deaf, or both.  Not a fucking word did they comprehend except “hot dog” and “fruit snacks”.  True story.  In days of old, men were beheaded for insubordination in a dictatorship.  In days of old, I thought to myself.  These natives are pretty fucking lucky they weren’t going to be beheaded.  Later that evening, when the tribal leader had saved me from the hell I was in, I left the abode for a meeting and left her in charge of the natives.  Apparently, the tribal leader had worse luck than I did, for, in the time that I was absent, the natives had lost most of their toys, electronic media watching privileges, and she had broken her telecommunications device.  She called in reinforcements (the tribal elders) and left the abode for provisions by herself, upon their arrival.  Good to know they don’t save that shit just for me.

Friday, the day of the Great Snowpocolypse:

Ok, so the Great Snowpocolypse didn’t really start until later in the afternoon – but still.  Having witnessed some of the wicked behavior of the natives the prior evening, I was prepared to hold my ground, both mentally and physically.  Upon the awakening of the natives, I discovered that their temperment was better than the previous evening, but not great.  I’ll take what I can get.  As the day progressed, their behavior remained status quo, however, I could tell that the line between content and ape shit was a very thin one to walk.  As the storm ramped up outside, the natives wound down inside.  By 10 o’clock, the natives had finally given in.  Finally.  No fucking letters, no fucking numbers.  Just peaceful quiet.  And snow.  Lots of fucking snow.

Saturday, the Snowpocolypse winds down, digging out commences:

Like I said, there was snow upon waking Saturday morning.  Lots of it.  The natives were all handy-dandy and resuming normal chaotic activity about the abode.  Joy.  Noting that the storm was finally moving off, I bundled up and began the work that lay ahead, digging out the abode.  The snow outside the door of the abode was probably up to my knee,  as was expected.  I quickly dug a path to the gas-powered snow throwing machine and cranked that fucker up.  It came to life with a roar and I was off to the races, throwing snow out of my path.  This was short-lived.

I got the walk done, and a small path down the driveway next to the tribe’s mode of transportation.  And that’s where it quit.  It must have said, “Screw this, buddy.  You’re gonna do some work too.”  And with that, it died.  Shit.  Nearly two feet of fucking snow and this is where the machine dies.  Shit.

Two and a half hours and a sore body later, the snow removal was done.  I returned inside.  The natives had been watching me from their resting quarters. Great – an audience.  I love people who like to watch others work.  However, asking them to help is like herding cats, so I’ll take my solo gig.  I arrived back inside and found that Wednesday was resting while Tuesday had regained her electronic media box watching privileges and was watching a video she’d seen four hundred fifty-seven times prior.  The day continued as per the norm until bedtime.  The native’s bedtime.

There must be a monster in their resting quarters.  One with big freakin’ fangs, claws and teeth.  Hairy, bad breath – the whole nine yards.  Why?  Because they hate going to bed. Hate. It.  I swear that they believe that numbers and letters keep the fucking thing away.  “A B C D E F G… the power of Christ compels you!” Anyways, the tribal leader and I experienced great resistance from the natives once bedtime came.  But, alas, we prevailed.  Thank. God.

Sunday, two days after Snowpocolypse:

Well, here we are.  Today.  The natives have been, somewhat, at each other’s throats today.  Quite literally.  Tuesday found her ass in the corner twice today.  Oh, the corner you ask?  Yes, the corner is where we send her when she’s done something REALLY bad.  For instance, a corner punishment earning offense would be pulling her sister BY HER LEG off the toy box (the toy box being 18″ off the ground.)  Most of these corner appearances are directly related to her interaction with Wednesday.  True story.

Both natives have been restless – and I fear that cabin fever has set in.  Tomorrow is Monday and the tribal leader returns to her usual occupation.  I know not whether to be optimistic about the new opportunities afforded the natives to be agreeable and amiable to each other or to fear that the behavior that they’ve shown in recent days will haunt me this coming week.  I understand more snow related weather is in the forecast for tomorrow – I can only hope that the weather event will be brief.

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