Ike

Ike was a rather large part of my life for the past week so the stories will take days to tell. These stories might take days to learn composing a blog because I want to link to a previous post (to me, the most devastating). For now, let's start at the beginning and the end.

I am on the "A-Team" or the ride out team at work. According to the Storm Prepardness Guide, I am to report to work 48 hours before landfall, be dismissed 24 hours after landfall and I may bring my spouse. Totally didn't happen this way.

Ike was scheduled to make landfall Saturday morning around 01:00 and my husband was suppose to come to the hospital with me.

Because department management, who knows, maybe hospital management, couldn't figure out the guide, I reported to work Friday 11:00am. Because my husband was "too stupid to be scared" (his words) he stayed at the apartment. I stayed at the hospital for 72 hours; I slept there, sort of, ate there, sort of, and did not shower there because we lost clean water. Oh, and the pharmacy was without air conditioning from Saturday 04:00 until . . . after I finally went home. I was so pretty, bed head is the style now, right! I hope eau d'pits is still the scent of the season.

So more to the end of the story. As I stood in the closet peeling off 3 day old scrubs my husband confesses to me.

Husband: First I have decided we need more insurance and the next time I won't be staying here.

Me: **

For some time I thought he would be going to the hospital with me and at the last minute, really as I am picking up my bags, he changes his mind and begs to stay at the apartment. You know, sometimes you reach a point where you are tired of arguing. So yup, I let him stay. In the end I am so glad I did.

Hurricane My Ass

Well for a week the news stations covered the storm that may or may not head our way. Having grown up in Houston, I could care less. Tell me where the storm is, where it will land and when. I'll take it from there thank you. You can keep you incessant drama bullshit circus.
I work for a hospital and am on the "A" team. This means should there be a disaster or hurricane, I am to report to work 48 hours before landfall and I'll stay there until it is all over, and the flood waters recede and I can get home. I drive a baby car and live by the mantra "Turn around, don't drown." Just to piss off my husband I'll yell this out just because. My intentional form of Tourett's Syndrome.
So Friday last, I debate whether or not to stop at the bank on the way home from work. I'd have to wait an hour for it to open or I could go home and sleep. As soon as I walk in the door hubby catches me.

Hub: Didn't you get my email?

Me: What email?

Hub: Don't you check your email?

Me: I check it when I get to work and then that's it. I saw there was a message in my box but I assumed it was a shift report. Why?

Hub: I wanted you to go to the credit union and get $100 for hurricane supplies

So I slept for 6 hours (I am a 9 hour girl) before hitting the credit union, looking quite lovely I must say. Bed Head is still in right?