08 May 2009 at 2:19 am
I'm a little freaked out, honestly, wondering how I'm going to sleep when I can't stop sneezing and coughing and it's snowing ash and the evacuation warnings get closer and closer and I'm keeping calm, telling everyone they can't go home and they can't stay here, and watching the flames on the television, and going outside and watching the flames on the hills, getting closer and closer, and it's warm, it's hot in Santa Barbara, but it's usually not, and we're all sweating and inhaling ash and somebody's telling me to sleep with a cold washcloth over my face, and my boss goes home to the westside, where I live, too, to tell me how it is, and she says it's terrifying getting home but that it's okay once you're inside, so I drive home, and there's traffic onto campus, where evacuees are now headed at 2am, and I'm going home, and I hold a scarf (polka-dotted, to match my dress) over my nose and mouth with the AC blasting and my eyes burning and I'm trying to get home, and I make it, helicopters overhead, police everywhere, and the firefighters, thank you, thank you to the firefighters, and I get inside and I put a towel underneath the door and I turn on a fan and wet a washcloth to put over my face, and I think if I had to leave things to be destroyed, what would I take, and I won't sleep, and this is my town, that I love, that is maybe about to be destroyed, and no one knows why, and no one can do anything about it other than wait, and try to breathe.
mod l post-mod
Hi. Morgan, 27, of Santa Barbara, CA. I am a hypocritical admirer of rhetoric (when it is my own) and an observer of literary trends. A secret: I don't take anything very seriously, and that includes myself.