Waiting for the apocalypse, in whatever form
What to do? On one hand, an impending snow storm. On the other, an impending end of time. With my luck, choice #3 will kick in, and I’ll be at work with a really long ride home on the bus because of one of the other two possibilities. Or both…
I figure that there’s going to be a really great sale on Mayan Apocalyse books, starting Saturday morning. If the roads have been cleared.
Locally, the mayor wants the blue collar union to take on some overtime so that the city can catch up and get the rinks ready in time for the holidays. This is the same confusing little man that was blue with rage earlier this week over another union group taking on some overtime. I really believe the “Damned if you do, damned if you don’t” motto was coined just for him.
Our dog has another strange quirk. Liquid is lapped in a three beat, rest rhythm. I’d record it, but the imaginary version is just as effective.
The question has been raised. Have we procured sufficient gifts for the upcoming holiday? How, exactly, should one respond? For the record, there are no lumps of coal intended.
The white winter wonderland that so impressed me yesterday hasn’t faded. The trees are still weighed down with sticky blogs of chilly water. Pretty, but if we get any more, there might be a need for people that know how to trim broken branches… by the hundreds of thousands. In other words, sometimes snow should just fall.
