Weather

The one good thing about having no work and nowhere to go is that when two feet of snow drops on your neighborhood and the snowplow is broken and can't get you out for four days, it's not such a big deal. You can even tolerate your over-stayed houseguest and not worry too much when the water pipes freeze, leaving you with no water.

No job = no hygiene = no problem.

But I did have one place to be and that was San Francisco on Christmas Eve. I cared of nothing, other than getting there, which meant getting my housesitter here and getting me to the airport, preferably clean. All energy was focused on achieving that goal. Luckily, all the pieces fell into place and I landed in San Francisco, Christmas Eve at midnight. Clean and with a suitcase full of clean clothes. 

And in stark contrast to a week ago, when I was dressed to the fucking nines and UNCE-UNCE-UNCING my ass off at a 125,000 square foot New Years Eve party in downtown San Francisco with 7,999 of my closest friends, today, I was again, unwashed and garbed in yellow slickers and rubber boots, frantically digging trenches around my house in a futile effort to divert the water that was pouring off the hill behind it, a result of 2 feet of melting snow and 8 inches of new rainfall in one day. 

As I whacked away, cutting a trench across the driveway (over a hundred years of compacted gravel, over a foot thick, mind you.) I would occasionally, spot a little critter paddling across the lake where the yard used to be and scampering across the driveway to higher ground.

Any hope that Noah would cruise by and collect us was dashed when I remembered that everyone in this house is spayed and neutered.