My thanks to all who commented on yesterday's "windy" post - you had me laughing right out loud. Seems retribution/revenge/retaliation is a strong fu among you. I'd love to have y'all on MY side when the bomb drops, is what I'm saying.
The fart wars with my borbyrigmafied cube neighbor have not yet commenced today. That's too bad, because I gots me a gut full of lentils and beef, which are stewing and ready for action. But if HE doesn't fire off first, I can't, and it's furrowing my brow. If Farty O'Blappydrawers doesn't sound off soon, I can't launch any offensive defensives, and that would be sad, seeing as how I'm so prepared.
To clarify one thing about the "Living situation" around these parts: Tooty McRazzypnats next "door" moved in AFTER me. He is the latecomer, and thus I believe I have certain rights to my quiet corner. It's a big room people, and yet he was put cheek (heh) by jowl (ew!) with me, which puzzles me to no end, because it completely goes against the "one empty seat" rule that we all follow in libraries, buses, and bathrooms. I wonder who was the one to have made the decision to put Gassy O'Pufferbutt next to me? Who was the one to have sentenced me to a life of secondhand gastrointestinal experiences?
It's not like I don't enjoy a good toot, people, for I do. There's certainly something extremely pleasurable about letting a good one rip, isn't there? BUT NOT IN SOMEONE ELSE'S AIR SPACE! It's like farting on an airplane - it's Just.Not.Done.
Which all makes me wonder - Does Razzy De'Analhorn not KNOW that I'm here? Can he not remember that there's someone just over the 6 foot-tall partition who might LIKE clean air to breathe? Can Braphomed Al-Honkerbriefs truly believe that farting in a cubicle, and what's more, farting LOUDLY in a cubicle, not come with some kind of repercussion?
Well, I'm going to GIVE him repercussion. And re- and re-, and re-, until he realizes that turning loose his gaseous effluvia into MY space is not acceptable.
It's just that I have to now wait for him to do it again. And the lentils, they won't wait.
Thunder in February. It's happening right outside my winder, y'all.
The oddest meterological phenomenon I've ever experienced included thunder in winter, but not the Southern thunder that comes with early spring rains as we're having today. Oh no. This was something completely different.
I was on my commute home from the pharmaceutical leviathan for which I then worked. It was a blowsy New England winter early evening, with fast-moving clouds slung low on overhead and a fine wind whipping the dry branches. There was a hint of snow in the air, a damp smell that told of much precipitation held aloft.
The wind kicked up, blowing snow across the roads and pushing cars around in their lanes. The tree limbs bent to and fro, being whipped about by the gathering storm. Fat drops of snow started plopping down, splattering against the windshield with authority.
And then, lightning. ZAP! The sky split in electric fury, sizzling blue-hot against the manatee-gray clouds. A deafening peal of thunder ripped out, concussive in volume. My fingers couldn't help but turn white as they gripped the steering wheel, hard. A second blast of lighting, then more, as branches began falling from trees, as wind and snow slowed the line of commuters to a crawl, and as blast after blast of thunder bellowed from the blackening sky. My goosebumps got goosebumps as I struggled to hold the car on the road and my nose filled with the scents of ozone, wet earth, and hot panic.
The Thundersnow was awesome, truly and literally, and it was over in less than ten minutes. I don't think I breathed more than twice that whole time. Simply and utterly amazing; a once-in-a-lifetime experience.
Anyone ever almost been struck by lighting, or experienced a tornado, or been caught in an undertow, or otherwise been subject of the powerful tug of nature?
I have, all three, and let me tell you, I'm not a big fan. Maybe I'll tell you about them sometime, but for now I'm off to do work, think about my wordsmiths story, and try to not listen to whatever's going to happen in the cube next door as lunchtime draws ever more near.
Wish me luck, and have a great day.