Tutt Tutt Looks like Rain!

It’s threatening to rain. The clouds are taking on this physical “gloom-and-doom” appearance that reminds me of Gotham in Batman movies. You never see the sun in that place. It’s like it doesn’t even exist. It’s not raining, but it’s not sunny. It’s not cold, but it’s not warm—not entirely pleasant or uncomfortable. It’s just...overcast.

Departing for work on a day like this presents several challenges. First off, you can’t run to your car from your house or from your car to the office door if you forgot an umbrella or sensible shoes, because the average walk to the nearest subway station from wherever you’re starting or departing is an average of at least a few blocks (short or long). Secondly, if you’re late for work and made it all the way to the door of the building before discovering the monsoon outside, turning back to face those few flights of stairs you’re going to have to ascend is discouraging. If you’re late you’re late, so what’s a few more minutes to turn back and get an umbrella and reassess your wardrobe? If you weren’t late yet, you soon will be once you turn back.

For me, forgetting an umbrella on a rainy day is a pure act of negligence. A fourth of my apartment is a wall of windows. If I fail to notice it’s raining until I reach the bottom of my four story walk-up then I deserve whatever’s coming to me. I wore sandals to work today thinking the dark clouds outside were sporting a bad poker face. I’m reevaluating my observation skills as I’ve just looked out the window, 30 floors up, and seen the streets and sidewalks suddenly polka-dotted with moving umbrellas. Forgot that too. Perhaps in a few hours the streets will only be a little soggy and I’ll have missed the actual precipitation all together.

Similarly, this happens on my way to the barn frequently. Being a “city girl” I usually only get to see Eclipse on the weekends, something I’ve recently attempted to remedy by moving him to a closer barn. A typical weekend morning for me involves throwing on whatever articles of clothing are nearest the bed, tying a bandanna around my mess of hair, doing a cursory once-over in the bathroom and bolting out the door. I usually double back inside at least once before starting my drive out to Long Island.

Then I turn on my car. And my windshield wipers?! Few things are more agonizing than rain on my weekends—especially because Eclipse hates water.

What's worse than riding a horse in the rain that hates water? A rider who hates rain. These forces combined equal one unhappy duo on a rainy weekend. Especially when the rider steps out of her car and realizes she forgot to not wear the boots with a hole in both soles. Soggy socks. Soggy day.

Lame.