Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to walk down to town. It was already raining when I left, but the weather’s been so changeable that I thought I’d risk it. I just needed to get outside. I was feeling down and struggling to get any work done. I also needed to buy a stamp.
The rain got heavier and heavier! It was pouring down my face by the time I reached the Post Office. I couldn’t be bothered checking if my makeup was running.
The rain turned to hail as I walked back up the hill. There were no doorways I could duck into, so I had no choice but to keep moving and I had to shield my face for a little while because the hailstones hurt. The road turned into a river, and I could feel my boots get heavier.
Halfway up, a friend happened to be passing and kindly said he’d take me where I needed to go. I declined. By that stage I was already soaked through (and, to be honest, a little cold), but part of me was enjoying the drama of the weather. I thought I might as well finish what I’d started!
I like the rain. I’ve always liked walking in the rain (assuming I don’t have to look presentable immediately afterwards!). There comes a point where you can’t get any wetter. You can either get annoyed and grumpy, or accept it for what it is. It wasn’t hailing for long. The rain returned. With an internal shrug, I turned my face up and tried out a smile.
I made it home in one piece. I hung my drenched coat on the door handle, laughed at my reflection in the mirror, and now feel strangely revitalised. Time to wipe the mascara off my face and get back into my stride!