Read a couple of my blogs and you pretty much know how I feel about rain -- I love it.
Normally.
After work I went to Target to look at luggage and as I was walking around I could hear it coming down pretty hard. When I walked out though, it was a fairly light. I was still happy. Funny story, this mom and her little girl were waiting just inside the door. As I pass by, the little girl looks at me and yells, "STOP! It is waining!" (she was young... thus the w... it cracked me up that she said "it is" instead of "it's," she sounded so... official, ah well... I never do as I am told) It was adorable. And, as it turns out, ominous.
A minute or two later the rain starts in earnest. And the wind. And it's like driving in a hurricane. I'm going 30 and I still can't see much of the road in front of me. Then magically, the rain abated and it was a light sprinkle. Phew!
I got about 5 minutes from home, and there was water across the road. Now... I drive an itty-bitty sportscar... not the itty-bittiest one out there, but it's pretty low to the ground, so Trixie (that's what I call my car) and I consulted with each other, and she suggested that I try to cut through the neighborhood rather than attempt to drive through the water. I agreed, laughing at my genius as I watched other people make a u-turn and go allllllll the way back to the main road.
Curses. Foiled again. Water across the road there, too. In fact, I thought I had gone from bad to worse, but I was able to use someone's driveway to turn around. I decided to head for the freeway. The freeway doesn't flood.
Big mistake. The feeder road was backed up and barely moving. Apparently the feeder road floods.
By this point, my bladder was starting to feel a little full. I was nervous. Ever since we evacuated for a hurricane and got stuck in traffic for eighteen hours, I get panicky when cars sit on the road and don't move. By this time the stoplight had cycled probably ten times, it was obvious that we were not going anywhere for a while. My heart was starting to beat a little faster and my eyes were starting to dart around. Should I stay where I was, or should I try to get in the turn lane and take another route? Finally I worked my way over into the turn lane and decided to go the long way around. And find a bathroom. Which turned out to be just as nasty as the clerk warned me it would be (but not as nasty as the one in Trainspotting...).
It should have taken me fifteen minutes to get to my house from Target. It took an hour and fifteen minutes. And the pisser is -- I didn't even buy a friggin' suitcase. I should have just gone home... Oh -- no -- I just remembered there's another gotcha... my city has a website where you can sign up to receive alerts... traffic accidents... water rationing... flooding... As I was about 5 minutes from home (my last successful attempt), I get the call... there's flooding. What a revelation. Thank you for that.
So I posted a request for blogs to read on blogger help, and I got some neat responses. I spent about 20 minutes browsing through the websites and subscribed to most of them. Even some that, at first, didn't sound like they would appeal to me, but it's all in the telling, and I was pleasantly surprised. Funny thing is, I had already subscribed to a couple before I got their message. Whenever I go to someone's blog, I like to click around on the blogs they subscribe to. I don't know a better way to find new ones because there are sooooooooooo many to choose from. One of the blogs I read was talking about driving and she said something like 'sometimes you just need a breeze' -- YES, that's how I felt. I rolled my windows down and cranked Alice in Chains when Check My Brain came on the radio because I am in love with that wicked sounding guitar. I can't help myself. I felt better because I had air, and I had Alice, and I knew I was going to make it home this time.
I decided that I'm still interested in the house. Instead of giving in to the listing agent and scheduling a viewing, I contacted the realtor I worked with when I bought this house. If I do go see the house, it'll be with my own realtor, not one who doesn't know the condition of the home she's (not) trying (very hard) to sell. And if I do end up buying the other house, Little Ms. Uncooperative will have to split her commission, and she won't get the one from my house. Nyah-nyah. Should have answered my questions, beyotch. All in all, I'm pretty certain that this house needs more work than I want to put into it, but I want to know that before I walk away from it completely.
Blog , Hello
1 year ago
Man, sounds like a bad trip home.
ReplyDelete3 phrases to cheer you up:
1) Running the P-test;
2) John's got a big stick, or a small poker;
3) Bob the flasher
I know you are smiling now!
You were doing good up until Bob the flasher... now I'm just cringing...
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