Snoqualmie

It's like that, and that's the way it is.

Last night I went shopping for a raincoat. It was terribly sensible of me, since I knew that it was supposed to rain today. I didn't find anything very promising, though -- right jacket, wrong color, right color, wrong size -- so I figured I'd just bring my umbrella to work today and try again for a raincoat another time.

That's all fine, except that I couldn't find my umbrella this morning. I made myself late for the train by searching the house for it, but it just didn't turn up anywhere. I grumbled, snapped, made Jacob miss his bus, and eventually stomped out of the house without raingear of any kind. It was only lightly sprinkling, though, so it was fine. Jacob generously loaned me $2 so I could take MUNI if it turned out to be raining hard in the city, but as of West Oakland it looked pretty dry. I decided to get off BART and walk as usual.

As soon as I processed my ticket and stepped outside, I found that it was pouring rain. Buckets, rivers, metaphorical cats and dogs all the way to the office, in fact. When I got here, I paused damply on the doormat and waited for people to tell me I looked like a drowned rat, what was I, crazy? and they couldn't believe I walked to work in this weather. The interior designer sidled up to me and started to speak, but only informed me that one of the architects had called in to say she'd be late. Oh, I thought. I haven't taken off my dripping jacket or wiped the water off my face yet, but okay. I continued to my desk and set down my bag. "Say, Dianna?" asked the junior Canadian architect. I turned around, dripping on the outgoing mail in the process. "If the geotechnical consultant for blah blah blah calls, you have to let the owner know that blah blah blah." Sigh.

I spent the morning hunting for raincoats online. I can buy a poofy high-tech Gore-Tex monstrosity from REI for $100, or a knee-length black industrial raincoat in large-construction-worker size for $30, or a nicely fitted women's waterproof weekend coat for $17. The latter comes in shades of Awful, Awful, and Really Awful, and can be shipped to arrive precisely when this rainstorm is over. I think I'll buy it anyway.

With that thought, I decided to forego the park for lunch. Just planning to buy a raincoat does not make one dry, and I couldn't trust the rain not to come back. I ate my burrito at my desk but found the experience missing something. A cookie from across the street would be great, I thought, but I shouldn't spend Jacob's $2 for dryness on sweet, chocolatey, chewy, delicious.... you can imagine where that went.

Right. Right. Vegan cookies are $2.50. Well, I can at least get one of those tasty oat things, right? I picked out a sealed package of two tasty apricot oat things, took it back to my desk, and nibbled absentmindedly on one of them while doing an online crossword puzzle. I glanced at the second one as I pulled it out of the package and noticed a... big... green... fuzzy... spot. Oh god.

Based on the above, I predict a panicked-busy afternoon followed by pouring rain at 4:30 when I'm walking to BART (because, of course, I can't take MUNI to Embarcadero after squandering my bus money on moldy oatcakes). Catastrophic BART delays, perhaps, resulting in being stalled in the Transbay Tube for a half hour. Two transfers in Oakland to packed trains, off at Ashby, and sleet from Ashby to my house. Flash floods? A lightning strike on the 1600 block of 63rd St? No dinner with my sweetie, who'll come home at 9:00 grumpy from eating too much pizza at lab meeting?

Let's not get ridiculous here. As long as it's not that last one I think I'll be fine.