I am not the hurricane worry-wart in the family. That is A’s job, and he’s quite good at it. This is what marriage is all about — dividing the work load and hoping it doesn’t fall too rigidly along gender lines. I do the laundry; he does the yardwork. He cooks the daily meals; I eat them. He worries about hurricanes; I provide the Obamian voice of hope. It is a system. We live a reasonably happy existance following it.
But right now? I’m dropping the ball, and totally freaking out. I do not like staring down the barrel of a cone of uncertainty one bit. I do not like getting emails from my boss telling me to prepare my office by the end of the week. I do not like that the governor is already making statements about a potential Lousiana landfall. And I really, really don’t like everyone running in to tell me their evacuation plans — that this time, they’re packing sweaters.
Also. The check battery light came on in my car today. Three years ago TO THE DAY I was dropping my transmission-sick Honda at the shop — where it would spend its final days. If I believed in signs — which I totally do not — this car trouble to hurricane relationship would be all I’d need to spend the next five days in a state of total panic.
Instead, I’m going to unclench my jaw, consider a glass of wine, and make sure I get all my work done this week. That way, I am guaranteed to not spend the next 5 months feeling bad that I didn’t finish typing up the board minutes. Because that really sucked last time.
Posted by jackson on 26 Aug 2008 03:48 pm
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