By Mike Wells

My morning getting from my home in Seminole Heights to my office in Brandon ...

7:35 a.m.
A bit of grey road mist, but nothing I’d actually consider “rain,” spatters my windshield along East Hillsborough Avenue during my morning commute. The line of cars stretches from 22nd Street to Interstate 4 at crawling pace. My side of the street, though, is relatively speedy.

As I reach the interstate, the emergency vehicles I anticipated perched along the roadside and ready for action were nowhere in sight. No panic. No mass exodus from Florida’s east coast. Nothing out of the ordinary.

7:50 a.m.
The merge from I-4 onto Interstate 75 is jammed. Too many cars + too short a distance to merge = an eye-rolling driver. It takes three minutes to get my Jeep into the outside lane and then into the much faster moving inside lane.

8:15 a.m.
Due to a horseback riding assignment yesterday (you can read Sunday’s Tribune to find out what that’s all about), my allergies are in high gear this morning. My eyes itch. My nose is running. Darn weeds. I stop at the CVS on the corner of Kings and Brandon Boulevard for some non-drowsy Sudafed. The clerk behind the counter tells me that only one other person has mentioned Ernesto to her since she started her shift 30 minutes ago. She’s too shy to tell me much more.

8:20 a.m.
Einstein Bros. Bagels is doing killer business across the intersection, I see. I drive over and pull into the last open parking space. By the time I get my Apple Dutch flavored bagel and a medium latte, there are just a few seats left along the bar at the window.

8:25 a.m.
After a man reading a newspaper to my right leaves, another man quickly takes his seat. He’s having coffee and a significant helping of cream cheese on his bagel. His name is Carl Kelley, he tells me. He lives in Dover and owns a used car lot near Ybor City.

This isn’t Carl’s first time at the hurricane rodeo, I learn. He’s lived in Florida all his life. If Ernesto had been a Category 2 hurricane and traveled up through the center of the state, we’d be in big trouble, he says.

“All those dead trees would just fall right over,” he says in between bites. “I think everyone’s more prepared, but we’re more vulnerable because of the condition last year left us in. We’re really blessed that it’s a normal day.”