Hmmm. Well, well, well. This is...fascinating. Unnerving, perhaps.
Right before I moved away from Florida, we got hit, big time, by Hurricane Charlie, one mean sonofabitch of a storm. Of course, this was before the other mean sonofabitch hurricanes blew through in the following weeks, and it was a year before Katrina, AKA Hurricane Motherfucker, came through, but at the time, it sucked. The winds knocked out the power at nine o'clock at night, and without a/c, light, or anything to keep us occupied, we had few choices: we could contemplate our collective navels, we could cower and cringer every time a gust of wind compromised our roof, or we could sleep. Yeah, guess what yours truly did? I must have been a narcoleptic in a past life, because hot damn, did I sleep. I slept right through the eye of the storm, which passed over us about six hours later. It was the silence of the storm's aftermath that woke me up.
The Big One that I am quickly becoming obsessed with? Yeah, I'm totally going to sleep through it, too. I decided to check out the thingy that tells about recent earthquakes in California, and hi! I'm doomed! because there was one (a 2.4 "microearthquake") on the 21st, a few miles north of me. At 7:30 in the morning. When I was sound asleep, likely dreaming of hurricanes and humidity, like any self-respecting transplanted Floridiot.
...HOW THE HELL DID I SLEEP THROUGH AN EARTHQUAKE???? I don't care how micro the damned thing was, I should have been able to feel it. But noooo. I am going to be asleep when So. Cal breaks off the continent and sets sail for parts unknown. Doooooom!
Clearly, I am a woman of reliability and action. When the world ends, let's nap on it.
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