Rain - I've been staring out the window for what feels like hours, staring at the rain. It's only been about 20 minutes, but there's just nothing else going on here. I know I should be working on my resume, or doing some other writing, but I'm not. Time not only seems to have stopped, but I wouldn't call anyone a liar for telling me it's started to go backward.

I'm watching people walk past the cafe, bundled, huddled under their umbrellas, as the people in the cafe talk about the rain. Even though San Francisco has been getting quite a lot of rain since Thanksgiving, including some of the most impressive downpours I've seen anywhere, the conversion goes on about the rain and how unclear they are about how to handle this heavy mist. I want to tell them "It's just rain," and give them hugs, "See... water," I want to let them all know it'll be ok.

But it's been over two years for me, too, since I've had to deal with any notably bad weather. Albuquerque had some storms, but they were more wind than anything, except for that one hail storm. Any rain or snow that came through was gone in 20 minutes, easily avoidable. Recently, I've caught myself saying "Great, now how am I going to get to the store?" and panicking because it because unclear how I was going to get through the afternoon and evening the way things were now, doomed to go without dinner. What was I supposed to do with no dinner?!

Won't somebody think about the children!?!

The truth is, though, I can't really remember how I handed the rain and snow in New York. I own an umbralla. I've used it quite deftly. I have a not-completely porous jacket that can, in a pinch, slow the progress of just enough rain to get me where I'm going before my regular clothes soak through, but still I'm confused. I know I did it then, there's evidence to prove that I did, but the specifics are lost to history and poisoned brain cells. How am I going to get home from this cafe? I'm going to be stuck here through the afternoon, mindlessly emptying my wallet on more and more coffee until my heart leaps through my chest and kills the guy across from me.

The guy on the TV with his teeth and his hair is saying it's going to rain all weekend, and I have dog food to buy. It hasn't been that long since I knew what to do, and this year is already shaping up better for me than stupid ol' 2003 was. I'm confident now. I'm sure I can figure this out, and if anyone in San Francisco needs a hand, I'm here to help.