My Inner Apocalypse Gal and My Inner Pollyanna

--I have disasters on the brain this morning, and I'm not sure why.  Is it the constant backbeat of discussion about Syria?  Is it the fact that we're having a very quiet hurricane season? 

--I spent part of the night dreaming about potential disasters.  I dreamed that I joined a group of friends on a very crowded beach, even though a hurricane was headed our way.

--We drank wheatgrass margaritas, which seems like a disaster of a different sort.

--On this day, in 1965, Wikipedia tells us, "Hurricane Betsy made its second landfall near New Orleans, Louisiana, leaving 76 dead and $1.42 billion ($10–12 billion in 2005 dollars) in damages, becoming the first hurricane to top $1 billion in unadjusted damages."

--When I swam in the ocean Thursday, it was cold.  Our Atlantic is often like a warm bathtub deep into October.  I'm hoping that the cooler water is a good sign.

--But I also know that late season storms, like Hurricane Wilma, have done all sorts of devastation.  But the water felt warmer that year.

--Do I also think about disaster this time of year because September 11 approaches?  Last year, I was at a retreat planning session, so I wasn't thinking about anniversaries as much.

--Or maybe I'm feeling the cumulative impact of the bad news of others.  So many people I know are having a tough year:  medical diagnoses, deaths of good friends, children with struggles, chronic unemployment or underemployment.  Last year was a year like that for us, so I feel that pain.

--But I feel a sense of good fortune, because so far, if I've managed to just hang on, times do get better.  I'm an odd mix of Apocalypse Gal and Pollyanna.