So apparently there’s an angry Irene knocking down my door. It’s hard for me to take a tropical storm seriously when it shares a name with Sherlock Holmes’ love interest (or as close as he gets to one, really). She was pretty devious though, so perhaps I should be more concerned.
Maybe it’s from living most my life in a state surrounded by relatively calm and placid lakes, but I’m really not that concerned. Sure I grabbed some bottled water but, really, I needed to do that anyway. At most, I’ll be forced to stay inside all weekend (in which case I’ll just force myself to get as far ahead in my studies as I can without going crazy).
Life is far too short and even less predictable for me to worry about something I have such little control over. Maybe I’ll just try sleeping through it.