It was a different kind of wind today, the kind that portends the coming of a storm. By mid afternoon, the blue sky had become gray, and the air had the unmistakable scent of imminent rain.

Before dark, what had been a bright day became heavy, gray, damp and dull. Storms are on the way, but it couldn't be worse than the dry winds that laid waste to the landscape over the weekend.

All of my cooking skills (shut up) have atrophied during the World Series, since the game starts before I'm ready to eat and ends long after I'd have starved to death if I waited to cook something. So, it's been a frozen food kind of week so far, and looking to stay that way for a few more days.

We had a bid to turn in this afternoon. I told the Boss I needed his prices by 2:30 at the latest, in order to get the bid package completed and off to FedEx in time to get sent by overnight letter. He assured me he was working on it and would call me with the information I needed "after lunch."

For some unaccountable reason, I waited until 2:31 to call and find out what was going on with him. I had to leave a message. He called back two minutes later and said he had the numbers I needed but got sidetracked and forgot to call me.

If I was a little short with him, it wasn't because I was angry, even though I was. It was because I would now have to drive through miserable afternoon traffic, dodging school buses and other roadway menaces, on the roundabout, totally out-of-the-way route I have to take to get anywhere since all the roads have been closed, and still possible not make it on time. That's why I was short with him.

Luckily, I got to the FedEx station on time and survived the drive. I just hope I didn't transpose any numbers, so that we have to do an $72,000 job for $27,000, or something like that. It would take me a few years to make up the difference out of my salary, and I'd have to live off the roots and berries growing in my yard. Possibly have to live in the big oak tree out back and sublet the Fortress. I'd rather not do that.

The Boss faxed me five pages to type at 5:48 pm. That's right, during the first inning of the third game of the World Series. I hope he didn't expect them back tonight, because he didn't get them.

World Series note: Could El Duque strike out 27 batters and lose? That's how it looked after two innings and six strikeouts, around Robin Ventura's home run.