Thursday, August 25, 2011

panic in the disco

You can imagine my reaction to the hurricane news. My son, who is watching news center 5 or whatever at 6:30 am texts me that we need to get groceries before the storm. No, sorry, D, we are not going to buy a shitload of perishable food that will rot when we lose our power. We will get some drinks and some fruit and some bread and some peanut butter and cereal and perhaps that milk-in-a-bag and snack food items and more whey. Stuff that does not need to be kept cold nor cooked.

If I didn't already have a tree fall into my driveway this year and if I hadn't already had to shopvac a puddle out of my basement from one of last week's flash floods, I'd be a little more sanguine. Of course, I continue to hope and pray that the storm track changes. It is slated to hit us on Gandhi's birthday, so, y'know, the forcefield of good fortune might be enough to push it way out to sea. Or at least make it lose energy.

So how are your storm preparations coming along? I figure I have to put my plants in the house, along with my bistro set, my Buddha shrine, and all my solar lights. Sandbag my sliders out from the basement to the patio. Pray we do not lose electricity because then I lose the sump pump. Take ativan and cry a lot. I don't know what else to do.

xoxo

2 comments:

Craig H said...

One of the best parts of condo living is the social opportunities that a little weather can create.

malevolent andrea said...

Where there's a will to get drunk, there's a way. Or so I have heard.