I was in the middle of folding my laundry when I heard a crackle of thunder — so I grabbed my microphone and ran out to the shed, pressed record, and dashed back to the house. My watch congratulated me for hitting my move goal.

My whole young life I had been naive to calamity, feeling the universe must revolve around me and thus of course I would be some famous screenwriter with a sports car and a mansion with like fifty hot tubs (hot tubs always being my barometer for success — ever since that childhood stay at a swank Courtyard by Marriott in Augusta, GA). 

My feeling of indestructibility never shifted into the realm of weather. I’m amazed I couldn’t use that reality to break my narcissism elesewhere.

Whatever, lightning; lightning scares the **** out of me. Whenever the sun is blotted out by a massive thunderstorm I am positive that any second I could be speared by Zeus.

I don’t know where I’m going with this other than “fear the sky;” so I’ll stop. And finish by saying the episode cover was a bit of fun in Photoshop. I wanted to visit an old muse, the Unholy Cumulus, a mischievous cloud that starred in a Nike Presto ad from the early aughts by my first production house crush, Shynola. When I saw the ad I was like, “that is the type of ‘what’ I want to do for a living.”