Today, Boston was blanketed once again in snow. This winter has been brutal. Super cold, or wicked in the vernacular sense, and so much frozen precipitation.

It’s, quite frankly, ridiculous.

I love the snow. Really. I do!

But, when you are training for a marathon it’s rather inconvenient. The sidewalks are treacherous at best, and the treadmill is doable, but it’s so very and completely boring.

I’m slowly conditioning myself to stomach the the mileage and minutes on a stationary platform with the help of Parks & Rec and Dexter (Netflix is amazing, seriously, if you couldn’t tell from the title of this entry). But no matter how many times Leslie Knope and Ben Wyatt get together at the world’s smallest park, it still can’t compete with the sheer satisfaction and beauty of running through the streets of Boston, moving forward, towards an actual destination, rather than trying not to be caught staring at your neighbor’s treadmill and thinking about how much faster you’re running and how much more you sweat. I’m sorry, ma’am. I swear I didn’t mean to drip on you.

But today was a day off. The snow was freewheeling and fast-falling. I went into work this morning, and within a couple of hours, the roads were beyond what I wanted to face.

I’m a Southern lady. Snowy roads don’t mix well with me.

Needless to say, I was super anxious all morning.

This lead to some less-than-focused bagel slicing and a cut finger.

It started gushing blood. Seriously. I dripped all over the kitchen. (Don’t worry. I cleaned it all up with bleach. Dexter style.)

I was a goner. I couldn’t take it any more.

After all the anxiety, I came home and had two bowls of soup, some tea, some drawing, and then some wine.

And now…Well, now…I’m feeling fiiiiiiinnneeeee….

I’ve watched three movies so far. Two with Kristin Bell, which were pleasing and satisfied a need in me I forgot existed. (I love Kristin Bell and cannot wait for the Veronica Mars movie. And no, I didn’t donate to the kickstarter project. I’ll donate by going to the movie, thank you very much!)

And now….I’ve scraped the bottom of the barrel. I’m…I’m watching “I Don’t Know How She Does It”, and I subsequently want to vomit up all of the soup and wine I’ve consumed.

THE WORST.

Maybe it’s because I’ve educated myself on equality and gender studies issues…or maybe I just really hate this stupid movie and how easily Sarah Jessica Parker’s character strolls through the Boston Commons from her Beacon Hill apartment sans pajamas (see my facebook status earlier this week for an understanding on that one). Excuse me for one second while I scream.

I know people actually have these lives and do indeed live in those beautiful, beautiful brownstones, but I don’t know them or their wallets. They are ridiculously expensive.

But that’s neither here nor there.

Another reason this movie pisses me off is that while Sarah Jessica Parker’s character does indeed attempt to do it all…kids, career, travel, husband, P.T.A…..she doesn’t seem to succeed or be fulfilled.

This movie only furthers the stereotype that women must stay home with their kids in order to be fulfilled.

It was my mistake to click the little ‘x’ on my playstation controller in the first place. My bad.

But another mistake I’ve made is not recognizing my own personal growth.

I no longer get any joy out of rich people struggling to find the balance in life. Stow your stupid story, Sarah Jessica Parker’s character, I don’t care about your stupid wealthy problems.

I’m turning you off now. As well as crawling into bed and continuing to read a worthwhile story in Frankenstein. (I’ve changed my tune on this novel. More to come on that later.)

Suck it, SJP. Suck it.