This is the office I work in — it’s in someone’s home. Yes, I totally agree with you that it could be worse, but you could agree with me, you would be pretty bummed if that happened in your home office.
When I moved to San Francisco, my Midwestern rootfolk asked me, “But what about the EARTHQUAKES?”
I thought the likelihood of one happening to me was low.
Plus, my Midwestern people deal regularly with floods, raging hail storms, thunderstorms, iced over highways, tornados and lightning. They had it worse than me, in my book.
But no tornado was as scary as what we went through last weekend.
We are fine and our friends are fine,
they lost lifelong collections,
they lost dishes,
also they are not fine.
When you a part of a community that,
as a group, faced its inevitable mortality,
that community’s minds are elsewhere.
We thought, “Well, that’s it.”
Everyone thought that,
if they woke up.
And a lot of people woke up.
I noticed it’s the same for people who are moving.
Their minds are with their stuff —
where the detergent is,
when they’ll find that belt that they love.
And when you add coming face to face with certain death to losing most of the stuff in your home, I’m quite astonished at the number of folks in the Napa valley just back at work.
Tough people, these farmers.
Damage to our wineries is minimal.
You should come visit them.
This is my boss’ house. They lost a lot of stuff.
(I hear you say.)
Why live on a fault line?
(I hear you ask.)
Anything that happens to you from here on out is your FAULT
We’re staying because this is the best community for us, in the whole world.
We are aware this is our fault.
But we’re willing to live with it.
We’re willing to thrive with it.