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Before the Storm
Sep. 22nd, 2005 08:50 pmToday I had some strange things happen to me.
Sweet potato fries, covered in cinnamon sugar. Good later with ice cream.
At work I had to clean all the papers off my desk and lock them in cabinets. Computers were supposed to come up off the floors. Everything was supposed to be turned off and unplugged by the time we left Friday, but since I'm not going there tomorrow, I did it today. I think people in my office will have heart attacks when they see my counters so empty. I should have left my little bottle of aspirin out to be polite.
I heard two gunshots while I was waiting for the bus. I guess it's grackle season again, and the powers that be are trying to scare the birds off. Still, what with my friend having mentioned the coming of the four horsemen of the apocalypse, it was unnerving.
I just missed my bus, but no big deal because the next one comes in ten or fifteen minutes. Or twenty. Or twenty-five. The whole route only takes 35 minutes. After which time a bus finally pulled up, but it was labeled "Out of Service" and it stopped short of our stop. And a Capital Metro van pulled up and there was walkie-talkie talking and the driver walked off. And lots of people at my stop had cell phones and things so I asked someone if they knew what was going on. Back when I'd only been waiting 30 minutes, the story they'd gotten was that any buses that had to travel on I-35 were backed up. (How come the bus I'd missed was right on time, then?) I said that I was thinking of just walking home because then I'd know I'd be home in an hour. But if I saw a bus coming five minutes later I'd be really angry. I waited, like a powerless moron. For only five more minutes for a grand total of 57 minutes. At which point the "Out of Service" bus pulled up to us and displayed some other route's name. I confirmed with the driver that it was really my route. The trip home was uneventful. The traffic on I-35 was just like it always is.
Meanwhile I read some more Nick Hornby. I didn't laugh once. Maybe it was the 95-degrees-in-the-shade weather and the lack of shade while wondering if a bus would ever come or if our only remaining bus was broken down for good. Or maybe it's that these characters who have such terrible lives and don't really like each other continue not really liking each other and learn slowly, if at all, like real people. I have seventy more pages. I'll let you know.
Rita has changed course again and seems unlikely to make it all the way to Austin after all. So maybe we don't have to bring the lawn furniture in, duct-tape the outdoor shed together, and move our less replaceable possessions to the higher shelves after all. Last I heard, Rita's heading for New Orleans. I guess they're more ready than anyone right now, but it's just heartbreaking. Even if the four horsemen aren't coming just yet, the people in that area of the country just might turn into people who say "You used to be able to ..." about all kinds of everyday things they used to take for granted.
We went to the store, missing the crowds that were apparently there last night and during lunch. The lines weren't much longer than usual, though you couldn't get water or bread. Ah, nothing but caviar for us. Well, ginger ale, milk, and medicine. On the way home we saw those people who wash your windshield and hope you'll tip them. I don't remember seeing those in Austin, only in movies. I wondered if they were from Louisiana. "Dude, no one has this fabulous corner yet, can you believe it? Score!" except in a different accent of course.
Sweet potato fries, covered in cinnamon sugar. Good later with ice cream.
At work I had to clean all the papers off my desk and lock them in cabinets. Computers were supposed to come up off the floors. Everything was supposed to be turned off and unplugged by the time we left Friday, but since I'm not going there tomorrow, I did it today. I think people in my office will have heart attacks when they see my counters so empty. I should have left my little bottle of aspirin out to be polite.
I heard two gunshots while I was waiting for the bus. I guess it's grackle season again, and the powers that be are trying to scare the birds off. Still, what with my friend having mentioned the coming of the four horsemen of the apocalypse, it was unnerving.
I just missed my bus, but no big deal because the next one comes in ten or fifteen minutes. Or twenty. Or twenty-five. The whole route only takes 35 minutes. After which time a bus finally pulled up, but it was labeled "Out of Service" and it stopped short of our stop. And a Capital Metro van pulled up and there was walkie-talkie talking and the driver walked off. And lots of people at my stop had cell phones and things so I asked someone if they knew what was going on. Back when I'd only been waiting 30 minutes, the story they'd gotten was that any buses that had to travel on I-35 were backed up. (How come the bus I'd missed was right on time, then?) I said that I was thinking of just walking home because then I'd know I'd be home in an hour. But if I saw a bus coming five minutes later I'd be really angry. I waited, like a powerless moron. For only five more minutes for a grand total of 57 minutes. At which point the "Out of Service" bus pulled up to us and displayed some other route's name. I confirmed with the driver that it was really my route. The trip home was uneventful. The traffic on I-35 was just like it always is.
Meanwhile I read some more Nick Hornby. I didn't laugh once. Maybe it was the 95-degrees-in-the-shade weather and the lack of shade while wondering if a bus would ever come or if our only remaining bus was broken down for good. Or maybe it's that these characters who have such terrible lives and don't really like each other continue not really liking each other and learn slowly, if at all, like real people. I have seventy more pages. I'll let you know.
Rita has changed course again and seems unlikely to make it all the way to Austin after all. So maybe we don't have to bring the lawn furniture in, duct-tape the outdoor shed together, and move our less replaceable possessions to the higher shelves after all. Last I heard, Rita's heading for New Orleans. I guess they're more ready than anyone right now, but it's just heartbreaking. Even if the four horsemen aren't coming just yet, the people in that area of the country just might turn into people who say "You used to be able to ..." about all kinds of everyday things they used to take for granted.
We went to the store, missing the crowds that were apparently there last night and during lunch. The lines weren't much longer than usual, though you couldn't get water or bread. Ah, nothing but caviar for us. Well, ginger ale, milk, and medicine. On the way home we saw those people who wash your windshield and hope you'll tip them. I don't remember seeing those in Austin, only in movies. I wondered if they were from Louisiana. "Dude, no one has this fabulous corner yet, can you believe it? Score!" except in a different accent of course.