I stopped in to my local coffee shop for some Joe this morning, so I could work and watch the rain outside through the paned glass. And now I’m tweeeeking on caffeine. Not quite sure how this happened. I think my barista may have put two shots of espresso in my drink. Hooboy.
But yeah, it’s raining. In California. My cousin got me this keen-o umbrella for Christmas, for which I am entirely grateful at the moment. I so infrequently get to use said umbrella. It’s a treat to break it out today.
It cracks me up that every one of my California friends has Facebook updates like, ‘I love the rain,’ or ‘Watching the rain fall.’ It’s all anyone has talked about since Sunday, when the rain was forecast. I even had a friend bail on lunch plans because it was so nice and cozy at home, and she didn’t want to get out and drive in the spitting, driving deluge. Californians are enamored by the ‘novelty’ of rain. If only they knew what it was like to get rain for weeks on end, with no sign of sunshine. Californians, I find, start to change their tune when there are more than two days of consecutive rain. They are sunny creatures by nature, and have a hard time driving, walking, and generally functioning when they can’t be outside soaking up that dazzling California sunshine. They start to grumble, then whine, about trying to get from Point A to Point B with soaking feet and flat hairstyles.
Sorry California. I have no sympathy. I lived 26 years with “weather,” and I survived well enough. Put on a hat, break out your barely used umbrella, and wear thick socks. It’s going to be a few wet days.