And in the middle of winter, when I have to go over mountain passes, that means black ice. Possibly the deadliest thing to happen on roads shy of drunk drivers.
Which means the roads of my egress are closed.
Which means my scheduled scarperfication is delayed until the roads are cleared.
And since it's raining, the only other path for buggering off is flooded because gully country. And I realize that will only make sense to Australians so: gully country is where there are low patches made by all of the water falling on the mountains coming roaring down with little to no warning.
When we say "This rainstorm is a real gully-washer," we mean, "somewhere is having flash floods."
So I'm pretty much stuck in Tullagawoopwoop until the weather and the roads clear. Which is slated to happen around-about Thursday. Which means I might have a slight embuggerance in preparing for the next semester of school. But better a living embuggerance than risk my life on the roads.
But I still have plenty of entertainments, and I have yet to make my friend watch The Quest for the Harp of Golden Dreams. I think it might involve throwing things. Or wrestling.