Hurricane party

Well. Never endured a Category 4 hurricane before. Sure I lost power for a week after Wilma. But it wasn’t 100 degrees out like it is here now, with 120 mph winds. 

Have plenty of food. And LED lights. And candles. And booze. Diet be damned. 

Didn’t shutter the windows. I’m not in the mandatory evacuation zone this year. But I am in the second zone, where it is strongly encouraged to GTFO. 

I’m sick of hearing from everyone who is prepared. How expensive their preparations were. How other people will die but they will be fine with their AC and gas grill. 

Meanwhile I’m in the Chinese drywall palace where our idiot management trimmed the trees and left the debris on the ground. You know, the better to impale people with. Or to go through the windows that have no screens, let alone shutters.  

And don’t get me started on how the pools are still full. Fools.

They chained up the clubhouse from the inside. I went to grab mail tonight and couldn’t get in. How da fuck will they get in to unlock the chains holding the doors together? Also there are “no exit” signs on the inside. How about “no entry” signs on the outside? Fools. 

This place will remain standing just like Trump’s empire and other shitty companies do. That is, despite themselves. So I should be more worried than I am.  But in a world where ineptitude is most richly rewarded, I am definitely in the right place. 

Lord please keep my coffeemaker running for the next four days. Or six, if this shit hooks around like it appears it will. 

Hey at least I’m getting two days off. Not the vacay I had planned for next week. But no long meetings while I’m under a time crunch? Greater joy than the hell any hurricane could inflict. 

Hurricane party!!!

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