I'll take numb hands for $1000 Alex...

Holy &%$@.

Seriously. Yesterday was the day from Hell.

Hell frozen over.

Seriously. We got our first snowfall of the year yesterday and it was bad. It was cold, windy, slushy, slippery, shitty snow. The kind you'd rather be sitting in your warm house NOT watching.

Instead, I drove to work in it.

I parked my tin can in the mall parking lot at around 11:30 am.

I didn't get back out to my car until 9:10 pm.

At this point, my car looked like it had been snowed on for approximately 10 hours. Go figure.

I skate out to my car and lo and behold, I'm parked in the only fucking puddle in the entire lot.

My shoe had a hole in the sole.

Again, go figure.

I am not wearing gloves since I think that the entering the car and warming it up portion of the evening is going to go off without a hitch.

Wouldn't you know it? I'm wrong.

It's -139287124978 degrees outside, I'm not wearing mittens and son of a bitch, my key won't turn in the lock.

I thought I might be able to warm up the car before I started chipping away at it. Not so much.

I go to the trunk to retrieve my scraper. I leave it open in case I have to crawl through it later.

*&^$!!

I scrape for a few and re-attempt to enter the vehicle.

MY. KEY. WILL. NOT. TURN. IN. THE. LOCK...

I'm growing more numb every second, swearing loudly while people leaving work click their fancy pants automatic lock buttons, auto-starts, and open their doors with relative ease.

I suck.

So does the tuna can I call a car.

At about 9:30, some other girls come out of the mall, seemingly stifling laughter at the sight of the poor latch-key kid with the hole in her shoe scraping a frozen slab of tin.

They offer to drive me home (God love them) and then to bring me back to work in the morning.

I politely refuse (near tears) since I don't want to risk someone stealing (yeah right) my car over night. (please??)

I throw myself half in the trunk and heat up my key heroin-style with a lighter. ( I heard that's how people cook it...)

I run to the door, slip the key in, try to turn it. (It budged, I swear)

Nothing.

I scurry back to the trunk (slide is more like it, I think I threw my back out in a near slip and fall accident) and re-light my key.

After repeated failed attempts, I finally manage to unlock the passenger side door.

That's right, I entered the shitmobile via the passenger side. Don't laugh. You'd do it too.

I lean over, start the fucking thing and since it's warmer outside than in, I hover outside the car, scraping the rest of Mother Nature's Ass© off my car.

After a few minutes, I get in the passenger side again.

I hop the bucket seats, slam my ass/tailbone on the gear shift (ow) and start the fucking car.

I get home (just barely, since I can't steer with icicle hands) and think; "Hmm, maybe I'll try to unlock my door".

Guess what?

The fucker opens.

I exit the vehicle, squoosh up the stairs, shimmy out of my pants, peel off my socks, go to the bathroom, shut the door, sit on the edge of the tub, turn the hairdryer on full blasted heat, thaw out my toes and fingers and finally collapse on the couch.

*UPDATE*
My fingers regained their full range of motion and color this morning at approximately 9:00 am.