...typical because I am going to discuss The Weather. Specifically, I'm going to talk/moan about the biblical downpour that I just had to endure. Unless when they knocked me out at the hospital last week to do my tests they screwed something up and I've actually woken up next February, it is August, isn't it? Y'know, summer? When people wear flippie-floppies (thanks, Rich) and shorts and go a bit mental cos of all the sunshine and the heat and stuff? So why the hell did I have to go to Writers Group wearing my winter coat and hood? More to the bloody point, why the hell have I had to walk home through the beginnings of a flood that would make Noah a bit twitchy and start reaching for some wood?
Don't get me wrong, I don't have a problem with rain as such. Ok, it can make my hair go frizzy sometimes, but it's not the be-all and end-all, and there's actually something rather wonderful about a brief summer shower; but when it comes to the weather equivalent of someone literally throwing buckets of water at you, it stops being entertaining and just becomes a pain in the arse!
Tonight, for instance, I had on my lovely purple-tartan bondage coat with the pointy hood (which Melissa said made me look like a pixie, so it's no longer my KKK coat!) so that my hair and everything else would be kept dry. This was fine going to the meeting because the rain wasn't too bad, but Jeezy Creezy, by the time I got home I looked like I'd just gone swimming off the end of the pier in my coat and all my clothes. Absolutely everything was drenched; coat, cardigan, two tops, leggings, skirt, boots...everything. I had to have a hot shower just to stop myself shivering. All the cars were aquaplaning down the A127, which didn't help; three times some annoying person in a car got me soaked, although as I was drenched anyway and they couldn't really help it given the circumstances, I don't suppose it made much difference. All this and it's going to continue to chuck it own overnight and during the morning commute...at this rate, I think I'll go to work in my cozzie and just swim there.
That's not a bad idea, actually. Now where did I put those flippers...?
Don't get me wrong, I don't have a problem with rain as such. Ok, it can make my hair go frizzy sometimes, but it's not the be-all and end-all, and there's actually something rather wonderful about a brief summer shower; but when it comes to the weather equivalent of someone literally throwing buckets of water at you, it stops being entertaining and just becomes a pain in the arse!
Tonight, for instance, I had on my lovely purple-tartan bondage coat with the pointy hood (which Melissa said made me look like a pixie, so it's no longer my KKK coat!) so that my hair and everything else would be kept dry. This was fine going to the meeting because the rain wasn't too bad, but Jeezy Creezy, by the time I got home I looked like I'd just gone swimming off the end of the pier in my coat and all my clothes. Absolutely everything was drenched; coat, cardigan, two tops, leggings, skirt, boots...everything. I had to have a hot shower just to stop myself shivering. All the cars were aquaplaning down the A127, which didn't help; three times some annoying person in a car got me soaked, although as I was drenched anyway and they couldn't really help it given the circumstances, I don't suppose it made much difference. All this and it's going to continue to chuck it own overnight and during the morning commute...at this rate, I think I'll go to work in my cozzie and just swim there.
That's not a bad idea, actually. Now where did I put those flippers...?
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