At first I thought someone had stuck a piece of gum on the window until I returned from lunch an hour later and found the piece of gum a foot higher than it originally was. I took a closer look and found that the piece of gum was actually a snail that had been driven out of the ground by the rain. Inject some Windex into its mucus glands, offer the bastard snail minimum wage plus benefits, and we’ll have that window cleaned in about two years.

As I write this, I have wet socks.

I think I bitch about rain a little too much, coming from a country where precipitation is both heavy and frequent. But the Brits. I have full admiration for them and their tolerance of prolonged dampness.

I just have no tolerance for damp socks.

Being totally drenched is not a problem. It is being dry and yet damp that irritates the life of me. This is what’s going on in my head now, “Should’ve stuffed packets of silica gel into my shoes before stepping out for lunch.”

Right now all I want to do is stretch a line across my desk and clothes peg my socks on it.