9:27 p.m. - Sunday, Aug. 03, 2003
So I'm back to my usual lifestyle of back-breaking manual labor and sleep deprivation.
I was going to mow the back yard today, but I wanted to listen to the Ski Anderson Show. I could see, far off to the north, dark clouds; I had to decide: do I want to get the lawn mowed before those clouds get here, or do I want my weekly dose of anti-venom? I chose the anti-venom. And yes, no sooner had the third hour of the Ski Anderson Show come to an end than the heavens opened up and poured down on us a shower of rain that we don't need. The lawn will have to wait. The mosquitoes will multiply.
Friday evening when I got off the train, the northwest sky was black with storm clouds. As I drove home, I was listening to the radio, and the weather person was describing the funnel cloud that had been spotted ... in Lansing ... moving southeast ... in about ten minutes it would be in East Chicago ... another five and it would be in Merri*lville ... another five, and -- holy @#!@#&!, the tornado was due to arrive at my house at the same time I did!
I drove like hell. If I'm going to die in a tornado, I want to die in my house, not my car. I'm funny that way.
But the damn thing never showed up. Chicken.
Saturday I got the first ripe tomato from my garden. It was incredibly delicious.
Notwithstanding that small pleasure, I'm sick of storms, I'm sick of mosquitoes, I'm sick of knee-high weeds in my back yard. I just want summer to be over.
:( It's days like this when I look wistfully at the calendar, hoping against all the rules of arithmetic and time that my foul mood could be attributed to PMS -- but no. It's just life.