Hello Friday: I Hate the Rain

rainThere’s a certain contingent of Southern Californians that seem to get almost orgasmic when it rains. “I love the rain!” they insist. Or “Ooh, we really needed this rain. I’m so glad it’s here.”

I, however, am not with that crowd. I hate rain, even more than I hate snow — and I really, really don’t like snow. Rain is wet and inconvenient and depressing, depressing, depressing — which admittedly was great when I was in grad school in Pittsburgh. It seemed to rain all the time in that gray city, and it felt like I was constantly stuck in inside with my super-heavy race play, religion-baiting one-act, or one of two loss-of-innocence screenplays. Which was bad for my psyche, but great for my grades. I got a therapist my second year of grad school and thankfully made it out of there (somewhat) mentally intact.

It should also be noted that I wrote my super-angsty play L.A. play Grown-Ups on the Playground during one of the rainiest winters on record in Southern California. It was either that or throw myself off the roof of the building at my ridiculously unrewarding and mind-numbing day job.

However, I don’t write plays anymore, and right now I’m working on a rather undepressing action/adventure novel, so all of this rain is definitely getting in my way. I just hate the sound of it. I imagine it pummeling our new (to us) car and flooding our stand-alone garage and soaking my Converse through when I inevitably have to walk in it.

Plus, I woke up at 2am, and I couldn’t get back to sleep. It’s 5am now as I write this.

Stoopid rain…


flickr.com photo credit: Marcel Germain