It's like a freaking apocalypse out there.
It's about 8:30 am as I take a moment here to record a thought or two at my desk, prior to deleting about forty sports books that the SCM has just weeded off the shelves. Certainly it's raining out there, but ... wow. The rain is pounding against the building, the nice safe brick building in which I work, because I'm starting to think that some roof parts are going to blow off the under-construction addition today. So I'm enjoying the safety of where I am, not to mention the electricity, which I suppose could go at any moment. The rain is so pervasive that I can barely see out the window. When I looked out before, there were garbage cans and garbage scattered everywhere. I couldn't open the front door this morning to get out of the house because the wind was holding it back, and I'm a weakling. Took a minute.
I can see the outlines of the trees outside of the Colleague's window; they are in constant, violent motion. I think the sun never did come up this morning.
More later..
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I'm home, it's about 4:15. Bizarrely, the sun came out at 1:30 or so, and though it's been in and out since then, it stopped raining. Still pretty windy, though. During the monsoon this morning, it was actually about 60 degrees, which is also freakish for January, but it's been dropping all day. I feel like I'm in that movie.
I have to add something to yesterday's meme, because summer-gale reminded me of another smell I totally love, although I don't have a specific memory for it. It's the baby smell. Somehow, I always think of it as the way a baby's head smells, but I guess it's the whole baby. I think it was on an episode of Raymond that his father smells a baby's head and says it smells like immortality and he wants to just suck it in. I guess that sums it up as well as anything.
I didn't write anything about bad smells, but here's one. Cat poop. What memory do I associate it with? Walking into my house after work every freaking day for the last 15 years. There you go.
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What else? K is starting classes for the semester today, so I'm looking forward to an email from her when I get home later. R is working at both jobs today, her real job all day and slinging espresso until closing tonight. Occasional snottiness aside, she really is a good kid. And *fingers crossed* has a possible apartment in the works.
The Hubs and I were supposed to go out to an elegant buffet tonight that we go to every January, but he just called and said he's not feeling tip-top, which is most unusual for him, but I think he's just being careful because he has to teach a seminar tomorrow night that he absolutely must do, and he doesn't want to be sick for that, especially since it's in some godforsaken corner of New Jersey somewhere. You know, the funny thing is that because the state is geographically small, there's some sense that anyone can be anywhere in it and back the same day. We are pretty far north, maybe 15 minutes fro the New York State line, although one can travel northwest for nearly an hour up to High Point, which is the corner where New Jersey, New York, and Pennsylvania all come together. Cape May, the southernmost point, is about four hours south of here. Which is to say, the state is not big, but if you have to go to work wherever you live and then to a meeting in the afternoon or evening at the other end of the state, you're having a lousy day, even though your boss doesn't think it's an out-of-line request because Come On! You're still in New Jersey!
Speaking of which, I understand the Midas, the muffler people or whatever, are having an online contest to find the person with the worst commute. I wish I could get my brother-in-law to enter. He and my sister live one town over from me, and he works in Rhode Island. Yes. He's a professer at a college near Providence, and commutes about five hours each way. He stays over sometimes, so he only has to make the trip twice a week, but seriously. And my wonderful nephew, who lives here in Bizarro Town, just got a job in Philadelphia, so that's about two and a half hours each way, and he goes five days a week. I don't know, which one is worse? Actually, I think the Philadelphia guy spends more hours on the road each week. Huh.
If I had a brain, I'd write something really kickass for tomorrow. I'll think about it.
