We Are A Wet Mess This Monday In Fort Worth

You are heading away from my abode, looking south, out of my windshield, at the noon view of the Mixmaster that churns up I-30 and I-820, on my way to the Post Office on a very wet Monday in Fort Worth, Texas.

I had no illusions of the possibility of doing anything aerobic outside in this deluge. What I found at the Post Office charted my course west, to Beach Street and a Chase Bank.

Then I floated north, on Beach Street, to Town Talk, where I got a big container of Tennessee Style BBQ Pork and a gallon of old-fashioned apple cider. I have no idea what makes it old-fashioned.

With no oxygen getting aerobically infused into my system I will quickly be tail-spinning into SAD (Seasonally Affected Disorder) sadness. I may get cranky.