Much whining ahead. You have been warned!
I am so fucking sick of rain. I’m sick of everything being wet and disgusting. I’m sick of being stuck inside. I’m sick of Buster going stir-crazy. I’m sick of having to allot an extra half hour every time I walk the dogs to get them dry and then clean the floor. I am sick of the fact that it always rains when the weather report says it’s going to, and then rains half the time it says it’s going to be dry, as well.
After two miserable days, following two slightly less miserable months, I was so happy that it was supposed to be dry today. The rain stopped yesterday afternoon and was supposed to be done for at least several days. I’d planned to take the dogs to the park, run the errands I’ve been holding off of because of the gross weather, maybe go to a movie. Just get the fuck out of my apartment without having to get sloppy wet to do it.
So I was not emotionally prepared for everything to be sopping wet this morning — the dogs are low enough to the ground that they get soaked even when it’s not actively raining — and even less prepared for it to start pouring when we were a good 3/4 of a mile from home and I had no raincoat or hat.
The weather reports still say it’s supposed to be dry today — they actually say it’s dry right now and there is 0% chance of precipitation, despite the fact that it’s raining.
ARGH. THERE IS A REASON I DON’T LIVE IN THE PACIFIC NORTHWEST.
I know I am totally overreacting, but, paradoxically, that just pisses me off even more. I live in fucking Southern California. Is it too much to ask for a dry day once in awhile?