Fate is testing my driving abilities these days. The rain came down in buckets as I kissed my baby goodbye and ran to the car. Why I didn't think to bring an umbrella at that point, I don't know. I waded through rivers of runoff as I headed toward the most treacherous cliff-side road on the island. I made an excuse to stop at 7-11 on the way and buy a diet soda (another Pepsi? Am I nuts?) and kicked the tires to be sure I wouldn't fly off the mountain. Even with the stormy weather, I arrived a half hour early for my appointment at the library. I parked as close as I could and sat safely in the car, contemplating my next move. The radio was on, and I settled back to listen and think, realizing that I couldn't remember the last time I had just sat and listened to music. The last time may have been in college, 3 or 4 years ago. In the glove box there was a yellow emergency raincoat, but I decided to forego it, kind of like how the WWI pilots chose to forego parachutes because they weren't stylish enough. After all, how wet could I get?
The emergency entrance to the library ever since the flood is all the way around back. By the time I got to the front door, I was drenched. When I arrived around back, I was soaked to the skin and shivering. While I waited for one of the assistants to find the secretary, I searched for a dry patch of shirt to wipe my face. Finding none, I smeared the water around and pulled my hair into a bun to disguise it. It seemed to work. I filled out my paperwork and was pronounced officially hired, then cursed my way back through the rain to the car. I should have taken off the shirt and wrung it out when I got in the car, but instead I turned on the hot air and immediately steamed up all the windows. I hate driving in bad weather. Forget it, I'm never moving to the mainland.
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