Suzy Says

Is there any job, possibly other than Appointed Leader of these great United States, with less accountability than that of weatherman? Our forecast yesterday called for “possibility of light showers in the afternoon and evening.”

When I left work, it was cloudy and misty, but after I had gone a few blocks, it started pouring, with gale force winds. I had to give up completely on my umbrella, because it was either being plastered down around my head by said wind, bending its sad little ribs to the breaking point, or threatening to yank me skyward like a cranky Mary Poppins.

Having given up on the umbrella, my hair became wet, brownish strings, like a very old mop, and my make-up was scoured off before I was even home. Look, Ma! No face!

No matter how wrong weather forecasters are, no-one complains. They don’t have to repay part of their salary or pay a fine for every incorrect forecast. Angry mobs don’t show up at the station, demanding accuracy. The anchors don’t say things like, “He was wrong again, folks!” The weather guy (or girl) just goes on making predictions that are about as accurate as Miss Cleo’s, and they just get away with it. I want a job like that.

It’s been too depressing inside and outside to update this for the past few days. All tragedy and no comedy makes for a boring little blog, n’est-ce pas?

It’s been pouring ever since Friday afternoon. Our (fortunately hilly) street looks like a young river, with the water rushing down it faster than the cars, and the area outside our building’s basement is flooded. The power has been out for two days where my brother and sister live, so everyone’s been congregating chez Jonathan, because he has a generator. I can imagine them all sitting by the fire, playing cards and listening to my old Atwater Kent radio. They could be living 50 years ago.

Here the wind is howling outside, so strong that there are warnings about crossing the bridges. There are high surf advisories, too, and the rain just keeps on coming. It’s dark all day, so we have just curled up with the cats and watched Stephen King miniseries. Yesterday, it was the appropriate Storm of the Century and today, The Stand is our scheduled matin?e. It’s probably an upopular view, but I’d rather have this Charles Addams type of weather (the caption to this cartoon is “Just the kind of day that makes you feel good to be alive”) when it’s the weekend and going out into the elements is optional. I hate being at work all day in storm-tossed attire. Damp nylons are especially unenjoyable. So I hope the storm goes to spread the wealth somewhere else by tomorrow morning. In the meantime, it’s showtime!

It was raining this morning, so instead of walking to work as usual, I had to take the bus. I hate public transit. The whole problem with it is…it’s public. And other people are just so loathsome. As Dorothy Parker said, “other people are hell.” Also I always end up with wet feet and a bad mood, even if it is Friday. You will never find me singin’ in the rain.