Illustration by Lev Cantoral

My dear readers, as I write this, Iowa City is buckling down for some serious snow. I went to Hy-Vee this morning, where a 50-year-old woman elbowed me in the ribs because I was blocking her access to a five-pound box of Rice-a-Roni. When I made the pathetic little scoffing noise that passes for confrontation in such a situation, she shrugged and said, โ€œSorry. I need it for Winter Storm Jacob.โ€ Is it just me, or is โ€œJacobโ€ an incredibly wimpy-sounding name for life-threatening weather conditions? Thatโ€™s borderline irresponsible. Nobodyโ€™s going to stay home for fear of encountering Jacob.

All this snow, freezing rain and Rice-a-Roni (I bought a box. What? Itโ€™s good) just make me want to crawl into bed and sleep for a thousand years, or at least until April. It feels like most of us are pretty low-energy right now. Donโ€™t believe me? Go to Bread Garden. I guarantee youโ€™ll see at least three people standing slack-jawed and empty-eyed in front of the candy section. And why wouldnโ€™t they? The holidays are over, spring is well in the future and for most of us, life is just: go to work/shovel the driveway/lay on the couch and watch some genuinely horrifying news stories unfold.

When one of the six continents inhabited by man is apparently burning to the ground and Americaโ€™s about to start its, what, 10th war this year, itโ€™s hard to be particularly motivated to go plastic-free or learn Italian. Believe me, I get it. Even my parents have stopped asking when Iโ€™m going to get a real job and started celebrating the little victories. Thereโ€™s nothing more humiliating than having your dad tell you โ€œgood jobโ€ for putting your tax forms in an envelope and putting that envelope in the mail instead of just handing it to him.

That said, donโ€™t let yourself get discouraged. Stay warm, stay safe, have some soup and get back at it after the storm passes. After all, youโ€™ve got things to do — many of you are going back to class this week — and do you really want to have to say you got your butt kicked by Jacob?

This article was originally published in Little Village issue 277.

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