Rain jacket

I’m taking a break from the book quotes this week. The quote-as-inspiration format worked well for quite some time. However, the system has started to break down. Since I didn’t always find a quote that spoke to me once a week, I wrote quite a few posts that were about things I didn’t really care about. Consequently, I put off writing the post until the last second, and the writing wasn’t very good. Plus, I felt really pressured to finish a new book every week. And I don’t need to be stressing myself out over my pleasure reading.

I admit that I considered taking a break from blogging altogether. Over the past couple of weeks, it has felt like an extra burden with very little payoff. It was just another thing on my to-do list, and the writing I was producing was not something I was proud of. So why bother?

However, I think I’ve changed my mind on that part. Because yesterday was Father’s Day, I was reminded of a post I wrote a couple of years ago about the fix-it genes I got from my dad. I looked back in my archives to find it, and I realized that some of my best posts were written back in 2009. At that time, I wasn’t super regular about posting. I just wrote a post whenever an idea occurred to me. The results were usually good. But the problem with that was I would go for long periods of time without writing.

So, I’m trying to find a middle ground. I’m not going to try to make a quote fit every week, but I’m still going to try to post something every Monday. The quote method ended up stressing me out, so I’m going to have to look elsewhere for inspiration.

After looking through the old blog posts that I like, I think I’ve decided that my best writing tends to be about specific experiences. I’m pretty good at telling a story. I’m not so good at talking about the general state of the world. My blogs about general issues tend to come off preachy, which is rather fake since I don’t have strong convictions about much. So, instead of preaching about what I think of quotes from books, I’m going to tell my own stories. And who knows? Maybe one day I will have a book of my own.

So what story shall I tell you tonight? I once heard someone say that a surefire way to make people laugh is to tell an embarrassing story about yourself. I’ve just remembered such a story, so here goes.

Last spring, I started bike commuting a couple of days each week as a part of my marathon training plan. I am a big stickler about… well, sticking with my plan, so I was always reluctant to skip a bike commute because of rain. One morning last summer, I looked outside to see dark gray skies. However, I didn’t see any rain hitting the ground, so I decided to try biking to work. I’d wear a rain jacket. It would be fine!

When I walked outside, I discovered that it was lightly misting. But it’s not really raining, I thought to myself. And I’m wearing a rain jacket! So foolishly, I set out on my 8-mile commute, which usually takes me about 45 minutes.

I think you know what is coming. About three miles into the ride, it started to sprinkle. What do I care of sprinkling? I thought. I’m wearing a rain jacket! About three and a half miles in, it started to pour.

Needless to say, I arrived at work a half hour later completely soaked. I walked into our suite of offices and saw that one coworker had arrived before me. It seemed useless to try to hide my state from her, so I said, “It had to happen sometime, Ellen.” Her voice came out from her office. “What happened? Did you fall?”

I wish, I thought. “No. It rained.”

It’s a testament to what a genuinely nice person Ellen is that she did not laugh at me. Hair was slicked to my head in some spots and molded to the shape of my helmet in others. Mascara was smeared on my face. And I was, quite literally, dripping. All I could think was, That stupid rain jacket failed me.

Ellen asked me if I had a change of clothes. Of course, I didn’t. All I had was a ratty old zip-up sweatshirt that I wore when the air conditioning got too cold. I was determined to make it through the day somehow, though. If I didn’t, it would mean admitting that But I have a rain jacket! was a stupid reason to ride through the rain.

I spent the whole day in my wet shorts. I made the mistake of sitting on my upholstered chair for the first hour, soaking it, and I therefore spent the rest of the day sitting on the absolute front end of it. At some point I could not take the wet shirt any more, and swapped it for the ratty sweatshirt. I felt better for a bit, until I looked down and realized that my wet bra had soaked through the sweatshirt, leaving two giant wet patches on my chest. Stellar. Stupid rain jacket.

At this point, I had lost all desire to look presentable. I now had a soaking wet desk chair that I could not sit in, a soaking wet shirt over my visitor chair, and a bra hanging off the corner of my desk. (Yes, I look it off. Yes, I felt creepy doing so, but it was my best option. Shut up.) I closed my door, thanking the greater powers that I did not work in a formal office, that I had a door to close, and that no one ever, ever came to my office to talk to me.

That was the moment that someone knocked on the door. I kept myself from beating my head on my desk only by reasoning that I better hide my bra before opening the door.

Thankfully, the knocker turned out to be a very nice coworker of mine that pretended not to notice my pathetic state.

So, anyway, lesson learned. No riding to work when it is clearly going to rain. My rain jacket will not keep me dry.

I started a new training plan yesterday, and it says that I’m supposed to ride to work tomorrow. The forecast says a chance for thunderstorms, and I will admit that despite the fact that I just told this story, I’m still telling myself that it might be okay to ride.

If I’m still feeling that way in the morning, I’ll try to remember what it felt like to ride back home wearing still-wet shorts and underwear. If that doesn’t stop me, I don’t know what will.