As a lifelong Florida resident, I’m fairly used to hurricanes. I personally have only been in one, and technically it didn’t come on shore, just squeezed by really close. That was 1985, and I was 3. It’s actually the earliest memory I have. Evacuating to what would one day be my high school.
The number of POTENTIAL hurricanes I’ve been through, that’s a different story. Weatherpeople positively salivate over the slightest inkling of a storm brewing. You can see the excitement in their eyes. Personally, I find them fascinating. I always wanted to be a hurricane hunter, which would conveniently combine my love of hurricanes and my love of flying, but unfortunately it also involves something I would dislike, which is joining the Navy. I think it’s the navy. Either way, my aversion to authority makes that a not-so-awesome option.
Fortunately, it looks like Isaac is moving away from my little peninsula-on-a-peninsula. Which means I’ll have to work tomorrow, but it also means I don’t have to sandbag my sliding glass doors. Or put up shutters, or worry about roofs flying off. Thanks to the kitties drinking only distilled water, I am able to justify my large bottled water purchase, and it will not go to waste, like the last time I bought a bunch of water for an almost-hurricane, and let it sit in the linen closet for years (I don’t know why I stored them there, I suppose it must have seemed like a good place at the time) before realizing they’d expired. Did you know water has an expiration date? I don’t know why, maybe it’s the plastic leaching into the water or something. Either way, I’m an avid follower of the expiration dates (except with peanut butter, I’m reasonably sure that never goes bad) so I poured out the water and dutifully recycled the bottles.
I’m slightly annoyed that I didn’t buy more food for the week, as I didn’t want things to go to waste if the power went out. And I completely forgot to buy more Rescue Remedy (a natural de-stresser) for Taco. Hurricanes pose more of a threat to Taco than just blowing over his home. The Feline Idiopathic Cystitis, my vet says, seems to flare up in cats when there are hurricanes around. Sensitive little things they are. And he doesn’t even have to worry about boarding up windows!
It’s also good that we don’t have to evacuate, because I only have one cat carrier…I keep meaning to buy another one but the prices are outrageous for what is essentially a glorified gym bag.
Now I’m off to go do laundry until it’s time to pick up the boyfriend from his 2nd fantasy football draft. Draft #2 for me is online, so at least I don’t have to drive anywhere else in the crappy weather that the outer bands of Isaac are supposed to bring. Traditionally, a hurricane party could still commence (as long as you did some sort of preparation because the chance of getting hit was there, that’s the only prerequisite), but that would make for an even worse Monday.
We aren’t TECHNICALLY getting hit with the tropical storm, although it wouldn’t be my first. As a girl born and raised in the SUNNY (hint, hint Mother Nature!) state of Florida, I’m used to it. In fact, where I live is actually a peninsula ON the peninsula of Florida, so I’m really effed if a hurricane comes a knockin’. But it hasn’t…yet. One of my first memories is Hurricane Elena, she came around when I was 3. The eye never really came on land here but most of it did, so we evacuated to what would later be my high school. Fun times.
Back to today. Tropical Storm Debby may be going to Texas, but she is dropping a lot of her back end over here. It hasn’t stopped raining all day. The kind of rain that isn’t even worth venturing to the grocery store in, even if you have really cute pink leopard print galoshes like me. It’s floody, windy, nasty rain. Every time I think it’s getting lighter, it starts deluging again.
So really, perfect weather for doing the work that I am supposed to do this weekend anyway. Oh, and laundry. Supposed to finish that too. But I haven’t started it yet, because Moosh decided he wanted to cuddle, and I can’t say no to a cuddle. I guess he doesn’t like rainy days either. He headbutted me so hard it hurt. Violent snuggler.
So I have wasted a large part of my day already in bed with a book and a cat. But really, is there any other way one SHOULD spend such a craptastic day?