Not Agaaaaaain

Here it is. Snow. Again. We had snow on Wednesday and now apparently on Saturday. I'm wondering if we'll get it on Monday. Though, I really don't wanna miss classes on Tuesday since I missed it on Thursday.

A little background. It started snowing sometime between 3:30 and 4:30 Wednesday afternoon. It was during my first class in any case. I thought "screw it, I'll go home." Got about two minutes from campus and decided to go back. See, I don't like missing class if possible. It tends to fuck up my learning momentum, and it's hard for me to get back into the swing of things. So I go back for math class, and we do one whole section. We got out like 45 minutes early. The little snowflakes I saw before math had covered the ground in massive amounts. The line getting out of campus was insane. Seriously, it was like traffic hour on 85. Which for those of you not Atlanta born, that means it's like trying to find a parking spot on Black Friday. Yeah, exactly. Except that's every weeknight.

Anyway, I managed to scoot around and use the back way I discovered by accident earlier last week. So I get in line, with a stoplight no less, and I'm like "screw taking Peachtree Industrial." The line was so massive to just turn, and no. I go to Buford Hwy instead. Now, going this route is not a favorite way for me. It's in a kinda seedy part, and hello, single girl rolling through. But I finally get to the highway, get in an lane, waiting to turn.

The light changes and everyone starts to turn, because hey, turn light. All of a sudden I see brake lights ahead. I slam on my brakes but still tap into the guy in front of me. By the way? I have this high pitch scream-squeal every time I get in an accident. It's so girly and sooo not me normally. Now, the problem with this is that those of us that were turning...were still turning! Oh, yes. Someone about four cars in front decided to just stop while trying to switch lanes. Because clearly you need to do that when no traffic is in the other lane since you're leading both turning lanes. I pull over to the other guy, completely freaked that I've fucked up his car, while driving my godmom's car, and on her insurance. We're at a closed car dealership, because you know, snow on the ground (another reason it was a fantastic idea to just stop in the middle of a turning area) so everyone's at the store stocking up on toilet paper, bread, and milk. Don't ask me, Southern thing.

I get out, check my car and his and am visible happy that I didn't even dent the car. Seriously, when you're going a whopping five miles, not going fast there. I knock on the window, make sure he's already (he is), and then he wants my insurance information and name. I hand it over and go back to my car to get out the cold weather. The guy gets out, checks his car, and I'm just babbling about why in the world someone would just stop in the middle of bad weather to merge in a lane when no one was going past them (a common affliction, I might add). He writes down his address and phone number saying that it doesn't look like there's any damage but he needs to see in the morning. I agree, get the info he's written down, and we take off. See, we didn't even need the cops. Go team me. I didn't want it on my license, what can I say?

I get home explain it all to my mom, and kind of live in shell-shocked land until I fall asleep about 2. What? I was worried. I decided then that fuck it, I wasn't going to class. I don't care what I missed. I took the day off, worrying if his car had any damage. My mom calls him up and asks about 6 (talk about a day of torture), and it turns out that other than a teeny tiny paint chip, you can't notice he'd been hit. So I'm off the hook! Damn right I'm a good driver. After that I felt so much better. Like loads.

That was Wednesday/Thursday. Today I looked out and saw the scene you see in the pic. Sorry about the crappy photo. I guess it was something with the lights that did the weirdness. But yes, photogenic proof that Atlanta can in fact get snow twice in one week without it being a blizzard.