Although the period of mid-1995 through late 1997 was pretty rough for me, I do rank the year 2001 as being my annus horribilus—the year that should be stricken from my record books. My dad was diagnosed with cancer, Shoah died, I faced massive car repair bills and also had to buy a new car (it sounds shallow, but when you’re living paycheck to paycheck, immense and unanticipated expenses can really throw you into a dark tailspin), half of my beloved department got laid off, 9/11 happened, my apartment was struck by a tornado and I had to move into temporary ghetto housing for a few months afterwards, my heart got broken, and a work trip to San Antonio was ruined when I unexpectedly got seriously ill.
The year did have a few perks, though: adopting my cat Freyja, celebrating my birthday with a long weekend in Rehoboth Beach, spending Christmas with extended family in Massachusetts, kicking 2001’s hateful ass out the door with friends on a beach in Delaware on New Year’s Eve.
Today’s weather is appropriately gloomy. The entire east coast—and especially the mid-Atlantic region—was struck with violent storms and record-breaking rainfall amounts yesterday, and the flooding is expected to continue over the next two days. I haven’t had much luck with bad weather in recent years: in 1999 the house in which I was staying in London was struck by lightning; 2001 brought the tornado; in 2005 a freak storm hit my neighborhood and dropped a tree onto my car; and I had numerous episodes of flooding in my last and current apartments. Because of this, and because my apartment is half underground, I was quite nervous during yesterday’s downpours.
When evening rolled around, I nervously checked the drains by my front and back doors. The front drain looked fine, but the back drain had gotten clogged with leaves. I think the roof gutters must’ve gotten clogged with leaves again, because water wasn’t being diverted from the roof into the yard; instead, it was just pouring straight down as a waterfall into the alcove by my back door. With the drain being choked with leaves, I knew that flooding was imminent, although there probably wasn’t much more than a quarter inch of rain sitting in the alcove. So, I got out of my pajamas, changed into some old clothes and flip-flops, grabbed a flashlight and umbrella, and ran around the side of the house to my back door (the back door has been jammed for eons, which is why I didn’t simply exit through there). I cleared the drain and sprinted back inside.
A bit later I surveyed the alcove again and found that, once more, the drain had gotten clogged with leaves. This time water was rapidly filling the alcove, and maybe 1-1 ½ inches of water had accumulated. Again, I donned my old shirt, boxers, and flip-flops and ran to the back door with the flashlight and umbrella. Well, the umbrella was pretty much useless in rain that intense, and I quickly got soaked. As rapidly as possible, I scooped up leaves and piles of mud, tossing them into the yard, frantically trying to clear the entire alcove before getting struck by lightning. I mean, after all, I was standing outside during an electrical storm, holding a metal umbrella, and electrocution seemed like a viable threat. Since I was soaked anyway, I should’ve just ditched the umbrella to slightly decrease my odds of getting electrocuted, but I would’ve been blinded by the torrential rain without the umbrella, so I held onto it. I was out there for a few minutes, and then, satisfied that the alcove was as clear as possible, I darted back inside, completely drenched, while lightning spasmed constantly above me. But at least I avoided flooding! And a painful death by electrocution!
In less dreary news, Saturday was Olivia’s birthday party. She was as adorable and charismatic as ever!
song heard most recently before posting: Gloomy Winter—Bonnie Rideout
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