I admit, I stayed up to see if the storms were going to get serious last Friday night. Besides heavy winds in some of our SWOK towns and some really heavy rain, we lucked out weather-wise once again. Of course, going into the weekend, I didn't expect it to rain all day Saturday. It's like mother nature didn't want people to enjoy the reopening of Lawton, so she did what she could to keep us inside. I assume of course because I couldn't leave the house anyway. With a gloopy flooded back yard and a shop that's so full I usually work outside, my Saturday was spent in a recliner watching stuff on tv. After seven episodes of Wild Canada on the Smithsonian Prime Channel, I've determined that ducks are just all-terrain chickens.

Day twelve was much more productive. I was able to work on my never-ending project, the new receptionist desk for the studios. The good news is, for the most part, it's done... I just have all of the small detail type tasks left to do and paint.

Day thirteen I'm back to being locked in my own personal Groundhogs Day. Wake up, do work. None of the things we take for granted mixed in there. Even though there's nothing more aggravating than being stuck behind pensioners driving 35 MPH down Cache Road when I'm trying to get to work, I'm actually missing the imaginary interaction. You know, the pretend confrontational argument you have under your breath as you fight traffic... "Why are you in the left lane if you're not going to do the speed limit?" king of confrontation. It's the driving skill related questions you ask strangers that can't hear you trying to stay sane as you slowly make your way down the road. And the occasional question you ask yourself when you commit those same acts of traffic non-violence. As much as we try not to become our elders, it does seem that anyone traveling slower than you is a scrote, and anyone driving faster than you is a maniac. We all have a bit of Boomer in us all.