When you live in Minnesota certain things are unavoidable. For instance Caribou Coffee is something almost every Minnesotan has experienced, running into someone wearing a purple Favre jersey on Sunday is nothing out of the ordinary, and from late November to mid March there is snow on the ground.

For most people living in the 32nd state of the Union, this white, fluffy, frozen substance brings happiness and excitement to their late fall. For me it symbolizes the horror that lays ahead in the next few months of Minnesota’s dreadfully long winter.

I won’t lie, when I wake up the morning after the first snowfall of the year and see the trees in my backyard covered in snow, I feel the excitement that my fellow Minnesotans feel.

Although after walking outside and feeling the pang of cold air and the freezing snow already gaining entryway into my shoes, my excitement quickly recedes. Being able to see my breath rapidly reminds me that not only do I have more than four months of this weather ahead of me, but this isn’t even the half of it.

It’s not just snow that I hate. I hate being cold, period. It’s no secret that when there’s snow on the ground, the weather report won’t be saying it’s a good day to head to the beach.

Although I am properly equipped for the cold weather, even when wearing my huge parka, scarf, mittens, and Uggs, I still can’t help but shiver violently every time I step foot outside my cozy, heated house.

When the snow starts falling, and everyone starts thinking about what fun, outdoor activities they are going to do after school, all I’m thinking about is whether or not my mom remembered to pick up more hot chocolate mix, and if the heated blanket on my bed is turned on. Instead of contemplating what time I should head over to Hyland, I’m deliberating over what my excuse is this time for not being able to shovel the driveway.

Shoveling snow off my driveway is the reason I want to break into tears every time I see the snow start to fall when looking outside the windows during Religion class. Lifting heavy snow for hours is not only too much work, but it’s awful because I know I’m going to have to bundle up again in a couple of hours to shovel the fresh snow covering my driveway.

I try my hardest every year from November to March to stay as far away from the snow as possible. If you see me at Hyland or Buck Hill you must be hallucinating because I would rather do household chores or homework than spend the majority of my day on my butt after falling in the snow.