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?