I have been feeling antsy as a result of about eight or nine days without a ground pound. So, this morning, I looked out the window and satisfied myself that there would be a sufficiently long rainless window (rained like a bitch last night) for me to hit the street. I suited up with sweat pants, a long-sleeved tee-shirt and a nylon, “water resistant” windbreaker. I topped off my outfit with a baseball cap. Out I went.
About a quarter mile from home, came the drizzle. I forged ahead. About another quarter mile from home, the skies opened and positively gushed drenching, COLD rain. I turned in the direction of home, and by the time I got there, I looked and felt like a drowned rat.
Mrs. Parkway: You’re back already?
Me: Are you shitting me? It’s pouring, I’m soaked, and I’m cold as hell.
Mrs. Parkway: Pansy.
After I emerged from the hot shower and got dressed, I walked a couple times into different rooms, each time forgetting why I went there in the first place.
Mrs. Parkway: Doof.
Promises to be a long day.