Irony: a definition

So it hasn't rained in South Texas in three months.

Last spring we had flooding. This spring? Nothing. De nada. The whooping crane preservation people? They're sweating because the wetlands the birds need are going up in steam and cracked mud piles. Lawns? Chrispy. Deer? Thirsty. Water rationing was put into effect last week, telling us we could only water our lawns on designated days between designated hours. My work has been saving "gray water" meaning water people have drunk out of and leftover tea so that we can keep our out door potted plants alive. And it's really clear that having reached Defcon 3 we are quickly moving into Defcon AKA Condition 2 of the rationing program in which we can only water things once a week and god forbid you let any water run into the gutter, because then you get a fine.

Yesterday my boss decided to have her roof redone. And because this process created three inch gaping holes between the rafters she decided to close the restaurant and have everybody mop the floor.

Which we did.

Every fucking saltio tile in the dining room was scrubbed. My back hurt. My body hurt because I've got Coldzilla on top of seasonal allergies and I feel dizzy and awful for reasons that have nothing to do with my inner ear and everything to do with having sinuses clogged worse than Austin traffic. And we still made that floor gleam. She was proud of us. Gave us free margauritas and a pat on the head because everything looked just like new.

Last night it rained. Hard.

We're not opening the restaurant today.