I had trouble sleeping last night on account of the wind was blowing so hard I was sort of afraid I'd wake up in Oz. Like, the Oz with all the munchkins, not the Oz where ass-rapes happen. Although, maybe ass-raping is one of munchkin-Oz's dirty little secrets. It's not that I'd mind going to Oz. I think the Scarecrow and I would be BFF. Not the Cowardly Lion, though. I'd slap that whiny bitch right in the face.
Seriously, it was way windy. So windy, in fact, that I switched the channel from a rerun of Sex & the City to the news to make sure a tornado wasn't on top of the city at the moment. It wasn't. Apparently, though, it was windy enough to cause Heidi to freak out a tiny bit about what would happen if there was a tornado. Because, you see, our bedrooms are on the second floor and there IS no third floor so if the roof got blown off we'd be so dead. We talked about it today, and it turned out we were thinking the same thing about what to do if there WAS a tornado, providing she actually WOKE UP for it because I bet you anything she'd sleep right through it. Lucky bitch. Anyway, I told her not to worry, because sometimes when I'm bored (read: at work), I make up disaster plans for all sorts of things, such as fire or flash flood or Godzilla. These plans can include anything from making a torch out of a floor lamp, a pillowcase, and lighter fluid (zombie attack) to parachuting off of the balcony with bedsheets (fire that blocks the front door) to turning the fridge door into a raft (flood, duh).
I'm either the very best or very worst person to have with you when disaster strikes. Best, because I have all these plans already so you don't have to think and ALSO I don't panic very easily. Worst, because . . . I don't panic very easily AND have a very strong sense of denial, so if a T-Rex was attacking the neighborhood and his giant eye peeked in the window, I'd probably be all, "just ignore it, it'll go away eventually."
Or I'd throw Gerard at it.