My throat feels better. Time? No Flonase? I don't know. No snot, either. So confusing, but better.
A lot of flies got in the house this weekend. Bastards. The good news is that they are logy this time of year. The bad news is that they are a lot mushier, so when you whack them you have to hire FEMA to do the clean-up.
USPS didn't come today either, so I called the local office. I told the employee where I'm staying and she asked if the road is flooded. Yes, it was flooded both yesterday and today. I asked her to pull the package so I could pick it up tomorrow. FedEx Home delivered a package from Target to me today: the driver drove through the six inches of water. Tomorrow, the UPS driver will drive through the six inches of water to deliver a package from Staples to me. Tomorrow, I'll drive the Flying Couch through six inches of water to go to the Post Office.
I've had a spate of bad dreams lately. I blame the BBC. One wee-dark-hour last week, the BBC interviewed a doctor who is running an event in DC for Americans to experience what it is like to be a refugee. It starts with something like, "You have 30 seconds to grab five things from your home and leave. What are they?" I have two dogs who each weigh 21-25 pounds. The three of us need food, water, shelter (from heat, wind and rain), cash, medicine, a tool (like a jackknife or weatherman), a weapon (like a fucking big-ass gun), and a communication device which will fail if not charged: that's nine things if you count the two dogs and phone/charger as one each. I can't carry my dogs, so they have to walk. I could push them to five-six miles per day, but not for several days in a row. I can't carry the water, food, and shelter we need for multiple days. I don't even have a backpack in which I could attempt to carry them and/or our water, food and shelter. I would never abandon them. I would eat dog food to economize the items and weight, but at some point (if you're in Syria) someone is going to eat your dogs because you've run out of food, money, cell service, and bullets. So, I don't sleep well because every night there is a BBC report of a war or a flood or an earthquake, and my need to protect my dogs plays into my psyche, and I wake up to the same 30-seconds-five-things-scenario or worse. Fuck. I can't imagine a life like that (during my waking hours): but, now I understand the militia groups who bunker in the west. I may have to become one of them.
Siobhan M. Knox
In May 2016, I bought a five ton, 25’ long Class C motorhome because I like to drive, I like to travel, and it’s more fun and less expensive than living in a hotel. No prior RV experience was required, and I had none: perfect. I’m writing a book about my adventures which will come to an end when I get a job. The dogs will be sad.