Yesterday, I helped the landlord board up all the windows in preparation for Ernesto. Since at that point the weather was still beautiful and clear and sunny, the whole thing had a very strange feel to it, sort of halfway in between lazy afternoon home maintenance stuff and a kind of creepy Old Testament vibe, like we were smearing lamb's blood on the door so the Angel of Death would pass by the house.

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So far so good with that.

We have yet to be smited.

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Oh yeah, and last night I saw one of those crazy mile-long liens for gas. The entire right line of the road for a big long stretch was standing still, cuz it was the line for the gas station.

Strange days.

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As it turns out, the worst thing about the hurricane/tropical storm/whatever is the coffee situation.

I ran out of coffee here at home over the weekend (I had coffee out on Monday), and I can't go outside to have coffeee elsewhere until, quite possibly, Thursday, when everything re-opens.

My day without coffee has not been good. It a strange feeling, all floaty and diconnnected and easily distracted. But not so fun as most things that cause one to feel floaty and disconnected and easily distracted.

Another day of this I think I can handle. Any more than that and we might be getting into Jack-Nicholson-running-around-hacking-away-at-doors-with-an-axe-and-yelling -"heeere's Johnny" territory.

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Last night I went out with some other grad students for a last outing before Ernesto put everyone under house arrest, to a restaurant called "Havanah Spice." The cafe con leche was to die for. (No, at this point I'm *not* capable of talking about anything but coffee.) I also note that the reason Ernesto isn't hitting us as hard as everyone thought it would is that it broke up some and lost strength went it passed through Cuba's mountain ranges on the way to south Florida.

Putting these two items together, I ask you...Between giving the world primo coffee and saving us from the hurricane, how can anyone *not* love Cuba?

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Working on that new story, you ask?

Right. About that....

OK, am I at least putting the final touches on the "Sing, Goddess" revisions?"

Right. About that....

More later.

For now, blame the coffee.

How can I be expected to focus on writing without coffee?

Really.

Be reasonable.

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On a related note, you'd be amazed how many X-Files re-runs are on TV every day, between TNT and the Sci-Fi Channel.

Or maybe you wouldn't be.

Yikes.