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this is not my idea of a good time
Sep. 2nd, 2004 02:23 amThere's real person food in the refrigerator, and it's all because of me. Grilled chicken, baked sweet potatoes, and a fat jar to show for it. Actualization is a process, and tonight's culinary milestones were excellent steps in the right direction.
I hate election night. More specifically, I hate filibusters that keep our writers meaninglessly tied up so they're not getting back to the office to write their stories so they can be copy edited and passed and proofed and sent to the publisher so we can go home. I left after two in the morning last night. Let's just say those two cups of coffee this morning were more necessary than being on time to Law of Mass Comm.
Publix this afternoon wasn't quite as decimated as I'd expected - perishables were two-for-one, and I'm not clear on why they think macaroni & cheese is "storm readiness" food, but it was pretty picked over. The gentleman behind me at Target accurately described the place as being "like Christmas." Had a minor panic attack in Wal-Mart and called my mom (family lives in West Palm Beach, dead-on for the storm's projected landing path), who assured me they're boarding up the house tomorrow and going either north or south depending on if/how the storm shifts. On my end, alcohol and a battery-operated radio have been procured, so all there is to do is get a cold ass sitting on the floor of our bathroom playing Scrabble by candlelight come Friday.
The sky today has been an ominous smattering of clouds, coming together and drifting apart over the course of it but by late afternoon deciding to release a steady sprinkling of rain which continues even now. It rarely rains for longer than an hour and a half, two tops, here. Also, the fact that we have any weather at all with a Category Four storm so imminent makes the whole situation even scarier, like the beast has weather to spare.
( Lastly, example #546763449621 of how the technology hates me: )
I hate election night. More specifically, I hate filibusters that keep our writers meaninglessly tied up so they're not getting back to the office to write their stories so they can be copy edited and passed and proofed and sent to the publisher so we can go home. I left after two in the morning last night. Let's just say those two cups of coffee this morning were more necessary than being on time to Law of Mass Comm.
Publix this afternoon wasn't quite as decimated as I'd expected - perishables were two-for-one, and I'm not clear on why they think macaroni & cheese is "storm readiness" food, but it was pretty picked over. The gentleman behind me at Target accurately described the place as being "like Christmas." Had a minor panic attack in Wal-Mart and called my mom (family lives in West Palm Beach, dead-on for the storm's projected landing path), who assured me they're boarding up the house tomorrow and going either north or south depending on if/how the storm shifts. On my end, alcohol and a battery-operated radio have been procured, so all there is to do is get a cold ass sitting on the floor of our bathroom playing Scrabble by candlelight come Friday.
The sky today has been an ominous smattering of clouds, coming together and drifting apart over the course of it but by late afternoon deciding to release a steady sprinkling of rain which continues even now. It rarely rains for longer than an hour and a half, two tops, here. Also, the fact that we have any weather at all with a Category Four storm so imminent makes the whole situation even scarier, like the beast has weather to spare.
( Lastly, example #546763449621 of how the technology hates me: )
