it's raining, it's pouring

I'm not one of those people who takes much notice of the weather, whether or not it's rainy.  It is what it is and I certainly can't change it, much as my students seem to think I can.

I never really notice what it is until I leave the house.  If I'm really, really together, I hop in my clothes and out on the balcony to ascertain if I'm likely to freeze to death.  When it emerges that I am not, I continue merrily on my way.

And so I did this morning, cheerily content in the knowledge that it was Sunny and Warm and Altogether Delightful in a Zippity-Doo-Dah sort of way, minus Mr. Bluebird.

And so it continued to be, well into the afternoon.  And finally it was time for me to leave work and the skies had opened and were in process of spilling their deepest, darkest secrets speedily to earth.  Rather damp secrets they were, too.

It is at times like these that I am forever grateful to have such friendly, generous co-workers.  We generally operate under a what's-yours-is-whoever-gets-it-first type regimen (at least in regards to chocolate) so, even though nearly everyone else had gone home, I knew any umbrella I could find would be fair game.

I'd searched the most likely desk and found one before I suddenly remembered that the very same co-worker had actually already lent me one which was currently hiding under my desk.  You see why the policy works so well?

Now normally I am not an umbrella person.  When it comes to classifying myself, I easily swing "night," "cat" and "beach," but "umbrella" has never sprung to mind.  I don't mind rain, really I don't -- in fact I tend to enjoy it.  Average rain I find relaxing; downpours I find exhilarating.  Particularly if there's grass and trees and puddles around to splash around in.  Thunderstorms are off the charts, though to date, there is only recorded instance of me jumping into frigid pond waters in midst of a Michigan February thunderstorm.

Thus, I rarely actually covet an umbrella.  Umbrella-envy is completely unknown to me.  I saw them priced on the street at a very reasonable $5 today, and (isn't this so Australian of me?!) couldn't be bothered to buy one.  They're just are bulky.  Goodness knows I carry enough already (deck of cards, spare book, water bottle, camera, plastic bags, sunscreen, etc.) and they're one thing I can manage to live without.  I'm not one of those girls who gets grumpy if their hair gets wet (mine actually usually is improved by the rain, which says a lot about how it starts out!), so, except for my mobile phone or any important documents, tend to enjoy the rain.

If you've got an umbrella along, you're forever at its mercy.  It's like dog owners.  They're forever running home, canceling plans, changing vacations and cutting dates short all because of a furry mutt.  (Allow me to clarify:  I like dogs.  I like dogs very much.  I also like dog owners.  Very much.  But dogs, like children, tend to rule people's lives.  And frankly, I can think of many things I'd rather have my life ruled by than a dog.  A cat, for instance.  Or chocolate.  Or a hot Brazilian.  Or even, quite honestly, a deadline.)  It's the same if you've got an umbrella.  No, sorry, I can't follow so quickly, I've got to lower my brolly.  No, sorry, I can't step out yet, I've got to raise my brolly.  No, sorry, I didn't mean to take out your eyeballs, it was just my playful brolly.

Not that this stops people from trying to give me umbrellas.  I once had a neighbor bring one specifically for me as I waited in a light drizzle at the bus stop.  Hardly a gift you can refuse, despite it being a massive inconvenience of tacky clear plastic about to take out the sight of everyone in sight.  Thank you so much, I told him.  It was just what I wanted.

And my co-workers foist them on me, too.  It's looking grim, they say.  Best take a brolly.  (They also take it upon themselves to feed me.  Oh dear, they cry.  Kimmy's got nothing but peanut butter and apples for lunch again.  Someone get that girl a sandwich before she dies of chocolate poisoning!)

But today it was legitimately downpouring and I had not only a mobile phone, but also a plethora of papers it would really be better not to get entirely sopping wet.  (I regularly carry them in a plastic bag, in addition to my bag bag, just in case.)  And it was late and everyone else was gone.  And so I'd searched the place and finally found the umbrella I'd previously been given.  And walked merrily out into the rain.  Where my borrowed brolly promptly inverted itself and chuckled all the way home.