Maybe I should spend the rest of hurricane season in a drunken stupor...
Dennis missed us, of course. A little wussy puff of wind that knocked out power for 4 minutes, but sent DH scurrying to the hospital to work when the AC failed for the whole damn building! At 5 AM!!!
So we waved good bye to Dennis, glad to see that the damage to the Keys and the panhandle wasn't that bad. And now Emily has popped up on the horizon.
Looks like this season will be as bad as last season. I really think that a magnum of 12-year-old Nicaraguan or Jamaican rum is in order. With a straw. I'll just sit sipping it for the next five months, watch the Weather Channel in a drunken stupor, give up writing romance and the day job, and wait for disaster to drop upon my door. And for that damn tree, which we keep forgetting to trim, to fall on the newly repaired roof. I can't even count on hurricane sex, which everyone else has, because hubby has to WORK during a storm.
Damn hurricanes. They ruin everything, even my sex life!
Maybe we should move to Alaska, which may not be such a bad idea. I mean, they have mosquitoes bigger than my fist, but hey, so does Florida.