It's raining again. We're not in ark mode quite yet, as those poor souls down in Maryland are (at least according to the news reports), but I'm beginning to wish humidity-cutting knives were standard wedding presents for brides and grooms on the U.S. East coast, because I could use one right about now. It would be far more useful than all the candlesticks that seemed to be in vogue the year we were married. Of course, I'll be eating those words when the big thunder storm hits later, and we lose all our electricity. I'll also be cursing myself for hiding most of them away in closets where we can't find them.
I'm not one who typically likes to complain about the weather. I usually like to be the smug one, proving my superiority by never whining about it and telling those who do to shut up because there's absolutely nothing they can do about it. And why on earth people who choose to live in the Northeast would complain about the cold is beyond me. Either they grew up here and know perfectly well winter comes in September and lasts till May, or they moved here, having heard about it all their lives (like I did). Either dress in layers (which even this dumb Southerner knows how to do) or move, but don't tell me how cold it is.
But then, that's not really very fair of me. I moved here because I happen to be one of those rare human beings who likes weather extremes. Please don't plop me down somewhere like San Diego and make me spend more than a season there. I'd go mad with the boredom of all those sunny days, blue skies, and warm temperatures, with nothing but a very occasional rainstorm to cause people to run for cover. Give me record-breaking temperatures (either high or low, I'm not picky), exciting thunder storms, a little hail now and then, and I'm in seventh heaven. I'd probably draw the line at Hurricane Katrina, but that's about it. As a matter of fact, I'm a little annoyed with my home of choice. When I moved here, I was under the impression that blizzards strike much more frequently than they actually do.
As I sat here today, contemplating whether or not I really needed to go run a few errands at lunch, and deciding not to because I didn't want to go out in the rain, I realized I'm probably becoming even more annoying to my weather-whining friends. Telecommuting has made me almost completely immune to what's going on outside. I was never one much for checking the weather, but now I really couldn't care less. If it was hot yesterday, I'll throw on shorts this morning. If I later get chilly, I can always change into jeans or throw on a sweatshirt.
Quite obnoxious, I know. However, this complete obliviousness to Mother Nature and her whims also means I'm not going to be prepared should a rare tornado hit. And knowing my luck, it will be that tornado I always hoped would just rip off the roof of the office (or the school back in those days) in the middle of the night, harming no one, but closing everything down for a few days. You see, those of us who telecommute for my company are not allowed to take time off if the office has to close for some sort of weather emergency. And if the roof blows off my house? Well, I'd have to take vacation time to deal with that.
So, I think it's time to wipe that smug smile off my face before Maryland opens up its flood gates up this way.
2 comments:
I think you may have the soul of a Brit - it's a national tradition to talk about the weather (although we do a lot of moaning). That's because any given day can have several seasons in it. There's not much extreme weather (more now than ever before though), instead we tend to embrace endless oscillation. It means you can never find the right thing to wear. I do love a good thunderstorm, and always associate them with hanging out of the windows of our house with my brother, who had a boom microphone and was always trying to record the experience.
You're right. I do have the soul of a Brit. My grandfather was in the British foreign service, and my mother was a British Subject until the age of 17. We spent a stint living in Kent when I was a teenager. I love British weather: so unpredictable ("showery with bright periods"), and at some point nearly every day, you're given the perfect excuse to stay indoors with a good book.
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