i would rather be

29 Aug

I am ridiculously cosy right now.
Allow me to elaborate: I am curled up in my bed, a pillowy “nest” surrounding me, coffee sitting comfortably in my stomach, White Denim playing on thr stereo, my Yellow Book somewhere on my bed, wearing my comfiest pair of sweatpants and some huge shirt. I am warm and full and very very happy. I have transcended my neutrality, for god’s sake. I am pretty damn content.
Why, you ask, have I placed myself in this fuzzy nucleus of comfiness? I have answers: Hurricane Earl.
For those readers who don’t know, I currently live on a tiny rock in the Caribbean. The tiny rock belongs (along with two other tiny rocks) to the US, and operates under the designation of a United States Virgin Island. I’m not telling you which one, I’m just cautious like that. Anyway. For the past couple months, we’ve been keeping our eyes on the National Weather Center’s reports and forecasts, watching the tropical depressions roll off of Africa and come waltzing over here.
And so it just so happened that yesterday an innocuous little tropical storm graduated and became Hurricane Earl. Dear Earl’s predicted path takes him right over our little rock, probably blowing some stuff around and raining a ton. All which is well and good; we are prepared for this, and so the hurricane shutters on everyone’s houses are shut, store windows are carefully boarded and latched closed, outside furniture is stashed in sheds and garages. We’ve defended ourselves as best we can: now all that’s left is for us to wait for the storm to start and cease.
It’s a pretty ordinary thing here.

Well, today I went to Buck Island with Genna and Lil and Kiaya, tubed and pretty much tore my arms out of their sockets (owwwww), got buried and was given sand-boobs as big as cantaloupes (lolwhut), rinsed off, ate a lot of Church’s Chicken and winced as my inner vegetarian lectured me, went to Genna’s dad’s house and watched her fold clothes for a while, finally drove home and took a shower and helped with dinner and lay down and got supah comfy.
I am so good at writing run-on sentences. It’s a talent of mine.



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