Florida has this thing (too) besides from being the state that everybody makes fun of, we have hurricanes and pretty much nothing else to brag about, except those pink sunsets.

Prepping for a hurricane is something else. 

Let me explain what’s it like to be told to wrap-up all your shit because winds and rain can wipe off your windows, car, roof, doors, power and shoes.

They come with an announcement, the watch (36 hours to T time) and then a warning (24 hours to show time) and pandemonium ensues.

Why? Because we are in Florida, bro!

If you have hurricane shutters it’s time to put them up and then make peace with the fact that you’ll be living in prison for the next days.

The line at the gas station rivals the one at the supermarket where you also have to brave the fight for the cart. First aisle you go to, the water, is obviously emptied.

It gets physical, in my 20 years and several hurricanes I have had fully loaded carts running over my feet. Search for candles, oil lamps, batteries, because the ones you loaded the flashlights with last hurricane may be bad, but, wait, which batteries to buy? Because, bien sur, you left the house without checking, typical.

TIP: calculate 1 flashlight and candle per room, 1 gallon of water per person per day (what to do with the dog?)

Ice, lots of ice split in mini ice bags that will serve the purpose of maintaining food fresh if power goes off and freezer thaws.

Water, still water: when the time comes, fill in the bathtub with water because … you know by now.

Make sure laundry and dish washer are all done … because you know the drill.

Then there’s the food thing.

By now school and office will be closed, the unknown is how long you will be stuck in prison. I am Italian, there’s that. Ain’t no hot dog, rice and beans, buns and corn that will cut the chase in da house. There are several reasons, one is because you can do “junk” with a certain aplomb, you can bake a frozen pizza, but you can also bake a quiche with leeks and camembert (first of the season, BTW), while younibble on brie, pears and walnuts with honey and pop a bottle of Prosecco (I know a chardonnay would be best, but prosecco has bubbles and puts everyone in a good mood), you can bake potatoes and lamb, you can make tagliatelle with lobster, you can have Zak the baker bread with butter and anchovies.

FACT: My “ritual” is to cook and bake while waiting for shit to hit the fan, because that’s when I unofficially start freaking out. Believe me, nothing that a few bubbles will not calm down.

That’s all the physical stuff that goes on a crescendo until when  we are in it and you realize that you ran like an ant to secure everything, you have more food that the house has ever seen in the past 6 months, and now you gotta wait.

That’s when you cross the legs and the foot starts twitching and you pour another glass of prosecco and open the book, page 42. And then "let me check if laptop, phones, iPads are fully charged" (which they are, because you checked 30 minutes ago and nobody used them).

And you go back, page 42 and you attempt to remind yourself that you promised you were going to catch up on all shows of fashion month you hadn’t been able to watch.

Why can’t you run like a maniac and then stop right now, relax and enjoy?

Because they call you from home and they ask you “How is it going? Did it pass by already?” and you have to go back at explaining how does it work and please don’t listen to whatever they are telling you on the Italian TV, and, anyways, we are stuck inside, we can’t see outside from this Alcatraz and we still have a roof and power and I was at page 42.

FACT: during the hours when what-s-its-name hurricane is supposed to hit, you have no clue if it’s really hitting where you are at, if trees are being ripped, if power poles are taken down, you are in an isolation room (or at least what looks like from the movies). 

TIP: do NOT watch the TV, they tell you "it'll kill you and we can't save you". 

FACT: when the power goes down, that’s when you can begin to freak out, legally. 

Hurricane attire: I don’t do sweats or pajama, too depressing.

Imagine for a moment: you are forced inside, locked in with shutters on every glass surface, literally taped with masking tape in an OCD attempt to prevent water from trickling in. You have compulsively showered one too many times (in case, you know, power goes off), it's understandable that there’s no reason to dress up, neither to slumber.

FACT: AC is supposed to be blasting at the lowest temp manageable, get your winter stuff out and pretend it's the fall: cardigan, socks, beanie

TIP: when the power goes off and you are stuck with no window or door to be open you’ll remember how smart you were.

FACT: in 20 years, my first hurricane, insignificant as in cat.1 and can’t even remember the name, I evacuated after having moved the entire apartment in the only two rooms with no windows. Rookie move and I never evacuated again.

FACT: with Katrina a humongous ficus fell on my car 2 hours before the hurricane hit, and for three days it remained under. So much water had accumulated on the floor that tadpoles were born in it when the towing track removed it (in Florida we make up stuff). 

It had never happened to me that we were told: the office will be closed the next two days (which  meant a 4-day weekend) but then the same day the hurricane was supposd to hit, the first one when you did all of the above and you mind is finally OK with being in the dark and no sun you are told: we go back to work tomorrow. Maaaan, my mind doesn't go that fast, i just told you it took me all afternoon to calm down and read. 

Story short: I am still at page 42, quiche's gone, cheese is still good, prosecco finished.