Sunday, March 20, 2011

Place 6 and the Rain

It’s raining and I don’t have an umbrella. I’m getting wet, but it doesn’t bother me.  Why should it bother me? It’s just water. I read Cassie’s blog, and the only thing I can think about is water. How much water is there on my head now? It reminds me that I need a haircut. I’m getting soaked, but I know it could be worse. A little water isn’t going to hurt me.
I have cheap plastic shoes on. My socks are brown. It was white when I first put them on this morning. I don’t mind. It could be worse.  There could be holes in my house. The rain would be invading the living unannounced. Instead of frying mushrooms and boiling pasta, the pots and pans would be providing rain a home in my home. Even then it could still be a lot worse.
My pants aren’t waterproof. I probably have to buy new khaki’s. Still it could be a lot worse. I could be wearing no pants. My legs would be shivering.  There would be a chance of hypothermia if it was a little colder. Now, I would just get embarrassing looks from people on the streets. Maybe they think I’m homeless with a laptop case. It wouldn’t the first that ever happened to me. But again, it could still be a lot worse.
I’m going to be late for work. My laptop probably got wet. It might not work. I feel my whole life is saved on this computer.  I feel empty when I don’t have a computer. I know how stupid it sounds. It’s just something I could get anytime I want. I’m just so connected by it. It’s my life. The rain laughs and tells me I should get a better life.


  1. "Now, I would just get embarrassing looks from people on the streets. Maybe they think I’m homeless with a laptop case."

    For some reason this reminded me of the time I was in Morgantown, WV riding the PRT. There was a guy sitting across from me, dressed in hobo garb. He noticed my guitar case, smiled, pulled a harmonica from his pocket, put it up to his trach hole, and began to play. A young guy looked at me with an embarrassing face. I just smiled and tapped my foot to the song.

  2. It seems there's a bit of Japan underlying this.

  3. As I'm reading this toward the end of the week, post-hail-storm, I'm having a chuckle, because I too was caught in the rain without umbrella or jacket. It's peculiar for an American (a) to walk outside, (b) to be unprepared for the elements, and (c) to actually seem unconcerned about appearance. This isn't a strictly American attribute -- nobody likes getting wet -- but in less technocratic coutnries there is less "cacooning" -- all-weather, 24-hour protection. If you get stuck in the monsoon in India, most people are just stuck in the rain, and that's that. The presumption here, as you point out, is we're all homeless.