What a Load of Crap

How many more times is a named storm going to sail over my house before I can stop freaking out about it? I've been through two of them now, and both times it was much ado about nothing.

Ernesto meandered through the Goose Creek/Summerville region and the net damage was a shitload of pine needles on Husband's truck and a barbeque-flavored potato chip that flew out of my hand while I was eating lunch on the porch.

It was cool and all to get a paid day off from work. I got to hang out with the kid and I did get a little bit of work done. However, it was not very enjoyable given that I had spent the previous 24-48 hours:

• internally flipping out...
• while trying not to seem like I was flipping out...
• 'cause when I flip out, Daughter flips out...
• and when she flips out roofs collapse, the mouth of Hell opens its gaping maw, and there isn't enough Kleenex brand tissues in the world to soak up her tears...
• and if there is a hurricane coming anyways, it will probably accomplish all of those things anyways, which makes Daughter's efforts seem like an needless duplication of work.

Seriously though, being mentally wiped by the doomsday predictions on the news about these bloody storms, and then having nothing come of it is quite painful. It is like mentally preparing for a root canal and then being told in the dentist's chair that all they need to do is a cleaning.

Don't get me wrong; I am grateful that my family has access to information that a storm is coming in and that it may be dangerous. And God bless those reporters with the temerity and sense of physical balance to stand on a beach and have rain whipped into their faces. However, I still think that the media needs moderate and balance their storm coverage to the actual strength of the storm and what damage is likely to occur given local architecture, sea level and governmental preparedness.

Is that too much to ask?