Sorry for the lack of updates yesterday, folks. Had a bout of flu, thanks to the weather, so I decided to take yesterday off, and use the free time to recuperate. No Pakyaw Poetry for yesterday and today, either; I've got a buttload of work to catch up with, so my time isn't really mine as of now.
So what happened last Tuesday?
Well, the weather's been threatening to pour ever since that morning, so I was in a little bit of a rush. My goal was to finish all of my errands and get to a dry place without getting too wet. This was especially important since I was bringing a laptop and a few other important documents with me.
The weather wasn’t that cooperative, however. By the time I was done with all my errands, the heavens were pouring like there was no tomorrow, and I was stranded for about an hour, since my flimsy umbrella would never have been able to stand up to that downpour.
My problem was that I needed to be elsewhere, and fast. So every time the rain’d slow down, I’d brave it out and venture into the street to flag down a cab. The problem was that every lull would last no longer than a few minutes. Once the torrent picked up strength once again, I needed to wade back into the safety of the sidewalk.
Of course, my situation wasn’t as bad as a couple of districts away from my current location, where cars were busy earning their stripes as underwater research vehicles:
But I still got pretty soaked, which was what got me sick in the first place. I managed to get home safe and sound after completing everything (well, most of what) I needed to accomplish that day, but since the weather wasn’t really cooperating, I ended up with a bad case of the sniffles.
I really dislike the rain whenever I’m out in the streets.
I have come to love rain.
ReplyDeleteI walk to and from work everyday. When it rains, I slap-on my rain-jacket and pull up my backpack's rain-tarp and soldier through the downpours. This generally gets me soaking wet, which actually has a purpose.
You see I ride the MRT everyday. Every citizen of Metro Manila knows how cramped those trains can get.
So I get to the train station soaking wet. This is where the magic happens. As the train doors open, the sea of people starts dividing in front of me to avoid getting wet. And for those a-holes who keep pushing and shoving, I make them my personal towels while inside the train.
The rain is magic I tell ya. I love it.
Well, since you put it that way...
ReplyDeleteNo. I still hate the rain.