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pissed off penguin
Aug. 12th, 2004 07:29 amKnow what's fun? Inadvertantly sleeping nearly 11 hours in a row, after having spent giant chunks of the previous night/day sleeping. Then waking up, wandering downstairs and having your father ask if you have any money in the bank, to which you automatically say "no" [not exactly a lie depending on how thin you like to split your hairs] and then he calls you back to say he was asking because there are two storms heading this way.
Later I woke up enough to realize storm= hurricane/tropical storm. Oi. Bonnie and Charlie. Who the hell didn't see the comedy in naming the C this year Clyde? Who?! Damn them. Then it could have been a Bonnie and Clyde joke-fest as I swam to work. But nooooo.
So, for those who don't live with the yearly threat of tropical storms, I'll say this. Usually mother nature is a big tease. She creates fairly spiffy storms for the weathermen to drool over, lust after, and chase like a bunch of... guys, and they rarely if ever do much of anything at all. Around here anyway. There's some rain, some flooding, some jackass who thinks a thunderstorm is the perfect time to install his new weathervane on the roof. Stuff like that.
But it's always a bad idea when two storms try and hit back-to-back. Now, if Ms. Bonnie actually hits here today then no biggie. She's just raining on my parade. It's Charlie, the hurricane that worries me. I don't want to fucking work during a hurricane. The bridges to the island do not inspire any faith in me, whatsoever. Also, my mother doesn't drive in the rain, and I'm physically unable to drive the truck on a good day. [Unless I want to be pulled over for drunk driving that is] Since the car is all kinds of dead this means work may not happen. I thought of warning someone and said to fuzzy with that. I'll take my chances with the weather.
I'm not looking forward to someone trying to convince me that working in a hurricane will be fun. Fuck that. Even a baby hurricane ain't fun. But now that I've ranted [and am about to go look up more info on them], they won't do much of anything. Which means I'll be working for the next six nights in a row. Hell.
Oh. And my digital camera and computer are fighting. The computer is unable to detect the camera, even though everything seems to be hooked up properly. ;_; I wanted to picture whore. Now I cannae. Unfair!
Hungry. Not helping by reading Fudge Cupcake Murder by Joanne Fluke. If you like murder mysteries, novels set in small towns, or just want some tasty recipes, her Hannah Swensen books are perfection. No. Seriously. I gush. I read them, love them, and now that I think about it, will probably buy them all sooner or later. The only downside is that you are always hungry when reading them. Because food? Is heaven.
Oh, yeah, the whole point with the hurricane/storm bit is to explain why I may or may not disappear for a bit. It depends on if the blasted thing hits us, how hard, and how much slacking the power company does.
Later I woke up enough to realize storm= hurricane/tropical storm. Oi. Bonnie and Charlie. Who the hell didn't see the comedy in naming the C this year Clyde? Who?! Damn them. Then it could have been a Bonnie and Clyde joke-fest as I swam to work. But nooooo.
So, for those who don't live with the yearly threat of tropical storms, I'll say this. Usually mother nature is a big tease. She creates fairly spiffy storms for the weathermen to drool over, lust after, and chase like a bunch of... guys, and they rarely if ever do much of anything at all. Around here anyway. There's some rain, some flooding, some jackass who thinks a thunderstorm is the perfect time to install his new weathervane on the roof. Stuff like that.
But it's always a bad idea when two storms try and hit back-to-back. Now, if Ms. Bonnie actually hits here today then no biggie. She's just raining on my parade. It's Charlie, the hurricane that worries me. I don't want to fucking work during a hurricane. The bridges to the island do not inspire any faith in me, whatsoever. Also, my mother doesn't drive in the rain, and I'm physically unable to drive the truck on a good day. [Unless I want to be pulled over for drunk driving that is] Since the car is all kinds of dead this means work may not happen. I thought of warning someone and said to fuzzy with that. I'll take my chances with the weather.
I'm not looking forward to someone trying to convince me that working in a hurricane will be fun. Fuck that. Even a baby hurricane ain't fun. But now that I've ranted [and am about to go look up more info on them], they won't do much of anything. Which means I'll be working for the next six nights in a row. Hell.
Oh. And my digital camera and computer are fighting. The computer is unable to detect the camera, even though everything seems to be hooked up properly. ;_; I wanted to picture whore. Now I cannae. Unfair!
Hungry. Not helping by reading Fudge Cupcake Murder by Joanne Fluke. If you like murder mysteries, novels set in small towns, or just want some tasty recipes, her Hannah Swensen books are perfection. No. Seriously. I gush. I read them, love them, and now that I think about it, will probably buy them all sooner or later. The only downside is that you are always hungry when reading them. Because food? Is heaven.
Oh, yeah, the whole point with the hurricane/storm bit is to explain why I may or may not disappear for a bit. It depends on if the blasted thing hits us, how hard, and how much slacking the power company does.
