Rain and I have a difficult relationship.
Actually, the truth is that in our volatile, on-again, off-again relationship, I can’t rightly remember if I like Rain or hate him right now. I do know one thing for sure, though, he didn’t do himself any big favors today.
Well, maybe he did a few good things. He was around at 5 a.m. when I walked the dog, and he didn’t recoil in horror when he saw me. Because Rain is OK with seeing me immediately upon waking up and still seems to think I’m not hideous. Because Rain knows I’m not one of those people who wakes up with perfectly tousled hair, the perfect complexion, or anything else that could be deemed pretty. It does say something that Rain has seen me with a falling down bed-head ponytail and barely opened eyes and hasn’t run away. Yet.
But then, I went inside, woke up a bit more, and eventually got dressed and ready for work. I took care with my hair. I put on make-up. I redeemed myself from the ugliness of the 5 a.m. walking of the dog. And Rain. . . well, he seemed dead set on causing problems. He messed up my hair as I locked the front door. My heel sunk in mud and Rain seemed to want to push me over and I almost fell. Driving in the misty mess wasn’t fun, cool, or adventurous.
Rain, you have some good points. You really do. I can’t discount the whole necessary-for-things-to grow thing, the providing-water-to-the-earth thing, or the whole I-don’t-mind-that-you’re-hideous-in-the-morning thing. But those are a few good things that don’t really compare with all the trouble you’ve caused me. I think we’re at a crossroads in our relationship. Maybe we need to take a break, alà Ross and Rachel.
Just don’t write me a 14-page letter front and back. I won’t read it.
Besides, Rain, I’ve been hanging out with this new guy who always forgives me and wants to make me a better person. His name is Running, and we’re hanging out this afternoon. You’re not invited.