Regurgitating isn't writing

This would be the time that I should be drinking my Red Bull to keep me going for the rest of the night. Last night it worked perfectly. I got home from work and with some pressure off I shoveled the many inches of snow in front of my apartment. Then I shoveled the neighbors steps which is only fair because it’s been at least 6 months since we’ve had a front staircase of our own and they’ve never hollered at us for using theirs. Then I shoveled in front of their house, then the house on the other side, then a path to my car, then little paths to the street for people to cross. I was going to shovel the whole Mexican War Streets!

When that started to hurt my back, I put down my shovel and tried to make a snowman from the big pile of snow I’d made. It was not the right kind of snow and just crumbled in my gloves. Not to be deterred I set off on a walk down the street. I’d worked up enough heat that I wasn’t cold and I took off walking and kicking the snow as I went. It was great kicking snow! I’d crossed the street and was walking towards the theater when I heard the recognizable call of “Kaaate!” Hmm… I think this is the first time I ever mentioned my name. Anyway, I looked down the street I’d just been on and saw Blake stumbling towards me. He was pretty drunk and on his way to the store for cigarettes. I asked him how he knew it was me. Simple. He said “You’re the only one out late at night kicking around snow like a kid.”