Today was one of the rare days this blessed year that actually felt like summer in DC. Walking to work with Emily this morning, I noted the deadly duo of heat and humidity, the sudden onset of which made me wake up with a headache. I also observed that it probably would have been wise for me to bring an umbrella in case an afternoon thunderstorm arose. Emily pointed out that it one must get totally soaked through during a storm at least once a season; I recalled that one particular soaking before a long Metro/car ride back to Purcellville some six years ago with Ash and Beth had probably taken care of my completely soaked quota for a lifetime.
Ah, how foolish I can be.
It was a long day at work, and I stayed late, though I technically didn’t need to, to watch the cap and trade vote. I’m not going to discuss that – it’s not the point of my writing – but by the time I was getting ready to leave work, I was plenty exhausted and hungry. Since I wasn’t going home to a roommate and was struggling with the day’s fatigue, I decided to call in an order to the local sushi joint and pick up dinner on the way back to the apartment.
I was about halfway back (in front of the Supreme Court) when the first raindrops darkened the sidewalk. I quickened my pace. By the next block, the rain was steady. Within the next, it was torrential. There was no use seeking shelter under an overhang because the wind was driving the drain almost horizontal – which also made walking in a skirt interesting, until the linen got wet enough that it both laid down and stuck to me. When I walked by cars waiting at lights, I caught people looking at me piteously. I smiled at them to let them know they didn’t have to feel sorry for me; I didn’t have plans tonight anyway, and, according to Emily’s philosophy, I was getting my drenching experience out of the way for the season.
By the time I walked up the steps to collect my sushi, my hair, shirt, and skirt were completely soaked and unattractively clingy. My fellow patrons, some of whom hadn’t recognized the torrent outside, regarded me as something of a wonder. Once I got my food, I headed back out into the wet; waiting it out didn’t make sense at this point.
After fording the river once known as Massachusetts Avenue (I don’t think my brown flats will recover from that experience), I finally fell into my apartment and traded my wet work clothes for a dry t-shirt and pajama pants. Turned on the laptop, grabbed my chopsticks, popped in Thank You for Smoking, and let go of the last two weeks of an almost constant, oppressive stress… something I probably wouldn’t have gotten around to doing today absent getting caught in the rain.
And so, I thank God for thunderstorms and the unexpected.
No comments:
Post a Comment