1:50 p.m. - 2003-05-07
130 Strikes a Minute
This weather is totally wearing me out.
Last night, just when we thought we had seem the last of it, just when I thought I might actually get a good night's sleep, the storms started up again.
It got really intense. I was upstairs watching the battery powered TV (I've been spending quality time with our battery-powered TV) and Channel 48 switched to emergency programming, for the umpteenth time in the last two days. The weatherman actually looked a bit panicky, as he informed us that the lightning was hitting at the rate of 130 strikes a minute.
No, I did not mean 13 strikes a minute. That's 130 strikes a minute. It was like a very unhappy version of the Fourth of July, with the sky completely lit up. Constant thunder in the background, punctuated with the occasional enormous boom which shook the house.
You know, I'm not embarrassed to say that it scared the pants off me.
The power went off twice, but came right back on. The TV Station actually lost one of it's computer systems, but fortunately they had a back up so we could get the blow by blow of what tornados were springing up in what counties and destroying what trailer parks.
I finally took some Benedryl in a desperate attempt to knock myself out, and went in to bed. I spent the next hour literally praying as the thunder boomed and the sky flashed and the house shook. I asked God (who I'm not even sure if I really believe in, but disaster brings out the groveler in me) to forgive me for being such a lame artist and for thinking impure thoughts about my "Intro to 3D Processes" professor back at Mass Art and for putting the ping pong ball in Pat and Tex's gas tank, even thought they deserved it.
Oh, and for the hoodoo curse I put on my ex-stepfather-in-law years ago. And every other really awful thing I could think off that I've ever done over the last twenty five years.
I probably would have gone even farther back, but I must have confessed myself to sleep.
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