Tropically depressed

Yesterday's hurricane became a Tropical Depression. That sounds like the saddest umbrella drink, ever.

I panicked and bought 3 cans of Vienna Sausages.

Prior to becoming a parent, my hurricane preparation consisted of me going to the supermarket, usually after the rain had started to avoid the crowds, and coming home with beer and Pop Tarts. Pop Tarts because it's breakfast. Or a snack. Definately dessert. Most definately an MRE, and it comes in much better colors than regular MRE's. Pink with sprinkles, for example. And beer, because you might as well be drunk. Plus it's liquid, to avoid dehydration in a crisis. (College, schmollege.)

Now that the universe has put me in charge of another human being, I have a fully stocked pantry, a full refrigerator, large amounts of ice and Sterno cans, candles, and I was up all night doing laundry and vacuuming, because God forbid I can't see the vacuum lines in my carpeting when the electricity gets knocked out. I have canned food from every food group, and I don't just mean the Elf food groups, either. And now I'm moving in a month, and I know I'm going to wind up packing canned food. I also have a full tank of gas. I did donuts in the parking lot at work just because I was giddy from avoiding all the panic-riddled gas station lines the day before. Whee!