Last week’s weather was unacceptable.
Hey, rain gods: I never want to see a performance like that again.
As a beach resident, the rain posed some difficult situations. Finding a parking spot was nearly impossible. Walking from the park and Penfield Beach parking lot left many residents soaked.
During the torrential downpours, I had to go food shopping because the only thing I had left in my refrigerator was an egg and about three crackers.
At the checkout counter, I chose paper bags instead of plastic. Save the earth! Kill Kelly!
On Friday night, a drunken student threw a bottle into the Lantern Point parking lot. It shattered my sunroof and made my car resemble the swamp on campus. Lovely.
But that wasn’t all: mold, and other things, I’m sure, grew inside of it. When I got into it, my bottom was greeted by shards of glass and my nose with the grotesque smell of rotting fish.
Then there was the flooding. My little car had a hard time making it down Fairfield Beach Road, where puddles turned into small bodies of water after a few days.
Being drenched became the norm. Wet T-shirt, sweatshirt and jean contests were all the rage. Freezing in class? Deal. Luckily, I went out and purchased a slicker that would become my best friend. I know that many students weren’t as lucky. My deepest apologies-I think I got the last one.
But these things were small in comparison to the toll the rain took on my disposition.
“When is it going to stop?” I asked myself daily.
Everything seemed to have a dark cloud above it. Getting up when the alarm clock went off was harder, making it to classes was even more difficult and sometimes even smiling took a little effort.
I imagined rowing down North Benson Road in a canoe. Soon, that canoe turned into Noah’s ark.
Just when I started to seriously consider transferring to a school in another part of the country, the clouds parted, and the sun peeked its head through.
As I happily walked the mile to my car, I delved in my newfound appreciation for the sun. I’ve noticed that when I wake up in the morning, nervously open the shades and find sunlight, my face brightens up and I know it’s going to be a good day.
I would never again want to experience… what was it, 10 days of rain? But maybe the depressing experience has shed a little light on our lives.
Wake up with your chin up. Appreciate what you have. I guess it’s just like Joni Mitchell says: “Don’t it always seem to go that you don’t know what you’ve got ’til it’s gone?”
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