On Fridays, Kate commutes with me to work so we can have breakfast. We eat at the studio and she takes the bus right outside the building. But today is a much different day from those cold and sunny San Francisco mornings. Today’s winds are just at 50mph and it’s raining moose and cow. And I walk about a half mile from the bus stop to work since I’m too impatient to catch another line that’ll drive me down the Embarcadero, especially if it’s only a half mile walk. But today’s half mile walk seemed stretched. Those 6 blocks felt like they doubled on me today.
In between bursts of hard rain and wind, we stayed posted to the side of downtown skyscrapers when the wind and rain were too much too handle. We were in the company some FiDi businesspeople who couldn’t bear it either. I’ve seen at least 10 people’s umbrellas break on them–even those durable, double-layered ones. Umbrellas only magnified the situation.
I eventually gave up on the umbrella and just took it head on, hoping my beanie and thick jacket would protect me from getting sick. Of course this means I got drenched. My jeans, chucks and socks are soaked. Right now I have my desklamp on the floor, using its hot ass halogen power to dry my shoes and socks.
Anyhow, today’s word of the day: Fuck _______.
Some things people have yelled or muttered as they walked into the studio were:
Fuck umbrellas.
Fuck this rain.
Fuck my pants are soak.
Fuck it’s crazy ourside.
And I’m quite sure I heard somebody mutter Fuck Linsday Lohan. No lie.
I’m buying galoshes and a raincoat. On days like this, I’m suiting up like Paddington Bear.