I'm not big on pity, but this morning my life reached a new level of comically miserable. I opened my front door this morning to a downpour, a magnificently horrific Southern kind of rain, complete with crashing thunder and flashes of lightening. It was 7:43 a.m. I had no choice but to slog to work in the rain, wincing every few minutes at the thunder and bemoaning my very existence as my jeans slowly soaked through and I developed jungle rot on my feet. The air conditioning was on too high at the library, because during Katrina the air conditioning system flooded and it's still not fixed, so the temperature adjusts about a day after you need it to. Which meant not only was I wet, I was cold. And cranky. I didn't get to go home and change for another four hours, which wouldn't have been so bad, because eventually my jeans did dry out, but unfortunately they dried tighter than they were before, so I was on the verge of a muffin top until 1 p.m. Perhaps the saddest thing of all.
Now that I'm writing this out, it doesn't seem so bad. But at the time it was the worst. Also I'm operating under about 70% more stress than normal, which makes for a very unstable Hobs. Extremely unstable, actually. Going to try and keep my name out of the news, but I can't make promises.