Flash Floods

The ground is saturated. Any additional moisture, and it's raining now, floods the bottoms, sheets of water that blanket the low-lands, I don't pay much attention, because I live on a ridge. Everything is downhill from me. I view flooding as someone else's problem. Early in the morning, it rains like crazy, 2:30 or so, the drumming would wake the dead; I put out a couple of buckets, because I'm low on wash water. Severe rain, rain as god intended, to purify the guilty. It lasts for maybe ten minutes, but it must have dumped an inch, and I can't imagine the damage it's done to the driveway. Rain like this would drive the devil away. I lathered up and washed my hair, took a final rinse under the downspout, but the water is so cold I can't stand it for very long, and I end up rubbing myself dry with a towel I stole from a hotel in Colorado. The story of our lives. I'd rather suffer the slings and arrows, than not experience anything at all. The napp at the spillway was running about 8 inches deep, crashing into the buffer curb at the bottom, and Turkey Creek was running full-bore. Mark and I exchange words a couple of times a week and today it was butt descriptors, he hit me with callipygia, which means, essentially, nice butt, and mine for him was steatopygia, which is the cantilevered butt of the women in certain African tribes. I pulled hardware upstairs, then patched, repaired, and filled the holes. Then a water problem, the drain system for the air-handler was plugged, in the equipment room above the third floor, and I got filthy helping the air-conditioning guy, Donnie, getting that fixed. At lunch, TR had asked me about words that completely flipped, in definition, over a period of time. The 2nd definition for literally, he showed me in some on-line dictionary, is 'not literally', which I found quite amusing. The process by which the meaning flips is called something like antagonism, and buried in the literature (of course I looked it up everywhere I could) was the phrase 'the Janus Effect', which refers to the Roman God who looks both ways at the doorway. I need to get to work early tomorrow, to dump the water, dripping into various receptacles, then set about trying to clean the mess. Another day of grungy clothes. I wore them today because I knew I was going to be patching and repairing, thank god, because the floor in the mechanical room has never been swept and I spent a lot of time under the air-handler, where it was very dirty; fortunately I have another set of grungy clothes I can wear tomorrow. Grungy should actually be my middle name, I don't know what my parents were thinking. I'd better go, thunderstorms building up to the west.