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Today is not my day.
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Bern's Prose.
Today is not my Day.
Have you had the feeling that today is not your day? I awoke ate my breakfast and noticed that today is one of those days that decides to rain most of the day. Sometimes I am in the mood for rain it is on these days that I think of the farmer that needs rain to water the crops.
Then the selfish me pokes in; you wanted to go shopping today, not in all that rain is my self-spoken answer. Why not, I ask myself it is after all only water one can have warm shower after one returns home, Nothing to be afraid of with a little water. Other thoughts creep in your shoes will be wet and for days afterwards you will have difficulties getting a shine on your shoes, Best stay at home.
Other thoughts stray along the surface of my mind; what about the Wellington boots that you bought last year. You bought them for such periods of rain as this put your stupid Wellingtons on.
Of course the Wellingtons are for your feet but what about your head and body. You know that you do not like umbrellas. Thoughts flashed through my head, the umbrella that the high winds back last year turned inside out, the wind pulled it right out of my wet slippery hands and the last I saw of the expensive umbrella a heavy lorry ran over it.
The new raincoat with its hat to match caught my eye. That should do the trick, the raincoat the hat and the Wellington boots and I can go out even in the heaviest storm and not get wet.
I must be one of those people that one calls and optimist. I got myself ready to go out into the pouring rain. Opening the front door a heavy gust of wind blew the rain into my face. Needless to say for a few seconds I could see nothing. The water film slowly cleared from my glasses and I was able to see again.
One step behind the other I fought my way down the street, Somehow pleased that I did not have an umbrella to manage for in these high gusts of wind all, yes I say all umbrella’s would have given up the ghost.
I did not hear the bus that was carrying passengers to their destination. All I felt was the wall of water that the tyres of the heavy bus threw all over my person. My raincoat and hat were no match for all the water I was soaked down to the proverbial skin, My Wellington boots also had their fair share of water.
Each stride on the way back to my house were accompanied by the splodge, splodge, splodge the water in my Wellingtons made. At home the electricity was down not a light switch functioned. The hot water that I was looking forward to in the way of a nice refreshing shower was cold, strange that I did not realize that the electricity was not functioning before I left the house.
Somehow my house seemed to be against me. No light, no heat no hot water not even for a cup of tea or coffee. Yes even my house was in one of those moods that I so aptly describe in the title of this little weather report, I will not call it a story.
