Rain, Rain, Go Away!
I woke up this morning and heard the rain.
"Itís pouring," I thought, half asleep. The sound of the
rain is louder than the sound of the alarm clock. I turn over in bed and
put the pillow over my head, knowing that sooner or later I will have to
get up, but hoping that it is only a dream. A little rain is okay, but
three days in a row is more than I need or want.
I turn on the weather channel to get a forecast. Why
is the television radar always in slow motion? They need to put it in
fast forward so that this rain front will move through faster. Flash
flood warnings are scrolling across the screen. Rivers and
streams just donít want to stay in their banks when the rain keeps
pouring down like this. You know itís a bad
morning when the weatherman doesnít make it to work. With all this extra water, what we really need
is a plan to send it some place, like maybe Afghanistan.
I manage to drag myself out of bed and get ready for
work, rain or no rain. I hope for the best, prepare for the worst and
wonder if I should pack a bathing suit and snorkel in my lunch bag. I
dig out my raincoat and canít find my umbrella, then remember I left
it in the car. That figures. If I only had a motorboat I could probably
get to work faster and beat the traffic too.
Traffic will be terrible this morning. I donít know
why it is that people seem to panic when there is rain. Traffic crawls.
I vaguely wonder how long a car will float before it sinks. My wiper
blades could really use a re-tread. I reach for my travel cup of coffee
and turn it over on the seat. What a mess, but I gotta keep both hands
on the wheel before that eight-wheeler in the passing lane throws water
on the windshield and blows me off the road.
There is never any parking on a morning like this. I
should have stayed home from work to fish in that new lake that formed
in my back yard last night. I drive round and round in the parking
garage. It seems that everybody wants to park in the garage on a day
like this, even the amateurs. Some idiot stops in front of me and starts
backing up. Where am I supposed to go? There are cars behind me! I give
'em a beep and their car springs forward like a jackrabbit. I feel a bit
guilty. Horns sure sound loud in the parking garage.
I park and get out of the car, collecting my
possessions as I watch the elevator fill up with people and leave. That
means a long wait until it returns. I hurry to push the button again.
Other people gather, impatiently waiting. We are on the bottom level,
too far from the exit to consider stairs. Finally, the elevator comes,
and we all crowd on, damp, miserable and thrilled to be at work. I
wonder if there is a lifeguard aboard.
Rain comes down in torrents as I start my walk to the
office building. I pop my umbrella open and notice Iím out of style
with my old newsprint umbrella. Thanks to the Titans, blue and white
stripes seem to be the new umbrella fashion color of choice. Youíd
think there would be more newsprint umbrellas. With this sort of weather
it is worth subscribing to the local paper to get an umbrella for free.
Where is the handsome man that always comes along in
the rain in the movies and helps the lady across the street with his
huge umbrella, before he invites her to have a cup of coffee? A redneck
pulling a motorboat behind his pickup truck is more likely to get the girls
on a day like this around here.
No Prince Charming for me, just a city bus to dodge
before it sends a sheet of water cascading over the curb. Dumb bus
driver! I dodge puddles trying to keep the water out of my shoes while
struggling to keep at least the top of my head dry with my out of
fashion umbrella. Iíd be willing to row if someone had a canoe.
Slick floors in the building, wet people with dripping
coats and umbrellas slide into the elevators. If a wet T-shirt contest
breaks out in the office, weíll be ready. I sure hope this dismal
weather doesnít last forever. This isnít rain; itís a gully
washer. Iím so wet it would take a pretzel machine to wring me out.
I canít even remember life before rain. I somehow
feel as if it will never quit. I only pray that the animals are not
beginning to gather someplace two by two.