I Dont Wanna Do It

About I Dont Wanna Do It

The name says out loud what everybody thinks at four in the morning, when Winter Hill is under six inches and it is still coming down sideways. I Dont Wanna Do It goes out anyway: plowing the driveway, clearing the walk, shoveling the front stairs and the path to the car, salting the patch by the downspout that ices before anything else. Somerville snow is its own puzzle — nowhere to put it, cars parked to the inch, a hill that turns into a slide by breakfast. Getting a driveway open before the street plow builds a wall across it is most of the job. There is a real satisfaction in a set of steps swept down to bare tread while the whole block is still dark.