These May Flowers Better Be Freakin' Gorgeous

It rained all last week. When I woke up on Friday, there was not a cloud in the sky, not as far as the eye could see. I took an umbrella anyway. Mother Nature needs to earn my trust back. So far, she's doing a terrible job.

This weekend was gorgeous. Utterly gorgeous. Rhett and I went down to the Tidal Basin and went paddle-boating. We walked around the mall. We found a BookCrossing book! We saw a mother duck on her nest. We got lunch from a hotdog vendor on a street corner. We got tan, which is rare - we're a couple of pasty white kids. It was perfect. One of the best days I've had in a long time.

By Sunday night, as I was heading to church, I decided to take the bus, since the clouds and wind looked ominous.

This morning, it was pouring. (Even though I had, for once, dried my hair before I left the house!) The bus was late, and my umbrella's big enough to keep my head dry, but not big enough to cover both my toes and my backpack. It's after noon, now, and my socks and shoes are still wet. (I'm at work in a big sweatshirt that belongs to Rhett, looking more like I'm hanging out in the apartment on a rainy day than at my job on a rainy day. When my toes dry out, and I stop feeling cold and wet, maybe I'll be amenable to taking off my sweatshirt.) When the bus finally showed up, the rain didn't stop. No, the rain continued, even inside the bus. When I sat by the window, it dripped onto my side from the vents. When I sat by the aisle, it dripped onto my head from the ceiling. Rain water filtered through a 30-year-old Metro bus is undoubtedly ickier than rain water straight from the clouds. I feel dirty. Weather reports say the rain is supposed to continue through the week.

May flowers are so not worth it.