I'm appalled sometimes at how frequently the weather creeps into my everyday conversation. I talk about it with everyone, from my coffee guy to the security guards to my colleagues. Sometimes I think the "science" of weather forecasting is completely made up, and it's all just a ruse to give people something to talk about around the water cooler when there's a dearth of office gossip. I suppose it's probably better that when someone asks "How was your trip this weekend?" I answer with, "Oh the weather was gorgeous," rather than, "Well I got plastered every night and had to do the walk of shame."
Today, it rained in New York. All day. A pure, constant, light rain. Now, I sigh and complain as much as the next person every time it rains, but secretly, I love the rain. I love cozying up and staying inside when it rains. I love putting on rain boots and going for a stroll when it rains. I love having an excuse not to run errands when it's raining. I love making up excuses to run errands when it's raining. I love how the City seems quieter when it rains. I love the way the cars sound as they whiz through the pools collecting in potholes. I love it when it rains during the day and the light becomes muted and the air weepy. I love it when it rains at night and the streetlights reflect in puddles and the asphalt glistens.
But mostly, I love the way the rain makes me appreciate the sun.