Monday was everything you’d expect it to be. Rude. Imposing. Obnoxious. On top of the weather being gloomy and wet, multiple people pushed just the right combination of buttons to make me half-pouty and half-mental. By the time I got home from my Bible study Monday night, I was ready to run away, teenager-style. I prayed about it for a while, and by the time I went to sleep, I was actually looking forward to morning’s new mercies.
Instead, Tuesday stuck its tongue out at Monday, and me. "Oh, you felt like the world was against you on Monday, eh, BAA? Well check this out!" Drip. Drip. Drip. I swiped a few splashes of rain off my face. But wait… I was still in bed. It was raining on me IN MY ROOM. I leapt up and retrieved buckets and towels to assuage the leaky ceiling, at least for the day. Irritated and grunting, I quickly dressed for work, grabbed my umbrella and headed for the office.
At the bus stop, I waited and waited in the pouring sideways rain. After a few minutes, I decided to walk up two avenues in the hopes of either catching the M50 bus I was currently waiting on, or linking up with the M27. Rain seemed to be flying at me from every direction. Before I’d even left Hell’s Kitchen, I was soaked to the skin. Every ice cold splash on the back of my legs made me grind my teeth that much harder. My purse was soaked through and the whipping, erratic wind kept smacking my umbrella handle into my face. "Stop hitting yourself, loser!" said Tuesday. I was so relieved when the bus finally came. I took a seat in the back and prepared to adjust my attitude before getting to the office.
One block later, the M27 broke down. "Sucka!" said Tuesday rudely. We were all instructed to file off, stand in line in the rain again and wait for the next bus. I was beginning to go off the rails. With the wind gusting gustilly, my umbrella was merely a formality. There was nary a dry spot on me. Finally, a functional bus arrived and I made it to 3rd Avenue. I just had to walk a quick five blocks to the office…
The bus drove off, and right behind it was a speeding taxi. The disgusting wave of dirty water that splashed me from under its wheels was the last straw. I called the taxi a mean name, shook my fist with righteous indignation and proceeded to talk to myself, out loud, all the way to the office. I said things like, “Of course you splashed me, taxi! Do you HATE nice people?!” and “Fine, you win, weather! You’re so powerful! Whoopity-doo!” and “So help me God, if this umbrella turns inside out I am going to beat the first person I see with it!” I think I even sang some of that in a cranky pirate voice, all the while thinking how lovely it was to be able to pinpoint the moment when I finally went off the rails for good.
Please, Wednesday, be kind!
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