Two days ago, a series of storms blazed through the area. A tornado seems to have caused a good deal of damage about a half a mile up the road. The good news is that everyone seems to be ok (at least around my neighborhood).
The tornado hit when I was at the hospital with my brother. I hate hospitals as it is (all they're good for is catching illnesses from sick people! amirite?), but I especially hate hospitals on lock-down. I have a fear of dying inside of a hospital. It seems like such a boring place to die. Seriously, if there's an afterlife and I die in a hospital, I'm asking God for a mulligan. But anyway, there I am, trapped in the hospital awaiting whatever fate has in store.
Everyone was pretty worried, but this is Alabama: We get ten or twenty tornado warnings a year. I didn't see what the big deal was. Hell, I still don't see what the big deal was. But, I guess the aforementioned tornado was the big deal. If I had been on the road just a little earlier, I might have had to play dodge the tornado on the highway.
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