One week ago that b*tch Irma spread her skirts,

took a squat, and sprayed destruction all over my state.

Since  Modah lives only “a block from the water” here in South Florida,

she wisely decided to evacuate and took shelter 

with generous friends, who managed to pack

eleven people,

three large dogs,

six (count ’em SIX!) cats,

and a hedgehog named Norbert,

into their house.

We all partied, barked and meowed through the first night,

and then sweated (literally and figuratively)

through the next 24 hours of hella-high winds and no power.

On Monday the winds died down, and the sun came out.

And the good news is that Modah and her SoFlo Famool are safe.

We are all back living in our bougie, air-conditioned houses.

However, Modah was NOT spared the back-breaking labor

of “hurricane prep” and “hurricane cleanup.”

For the last seven days Modah has power-lifted her share of

steel hurricane shutters, lawn/patio furniture,

big-ass potted plants, fallen tree branches,

garbage bags of wet leaves, boxes of torn roof shingles,

and gawd-knows-what-else,

followed by alternating doses Advil PM and booze.

But Modah has been medicating responsibly,

because she knows that

ONE SHOULD NEVER COMBINE MEDICATIONS AND ALCOHOL

because THAT WOULD BE STUPID.

On this sunny sabbath day, Modah is resting her baggy, exhausted self

and reflecting upon all the mercies shown to her life.

Hopefully, you can reflect upon the mercies shown to your life, too.

And if you can’t, you’d better take a look back over your shoulder,

because Irma’s sister might be coming to your house real soon.