So Friday morning found me running and being epically late for work (as always), right? You see, I could’ve taken a cab, but no, I had to go through a tricycle driver who overcharged me, jump around East Avenue to prevent my untimely demise (being turned into road pizza by a jeep or bus or pedicab or tank), and I had to elbow three women just to be able to ride one jeepney to the MRT, where I had to endure a car filled with construction workers who smelled like they were paid obscene amounts of money to not wear any sort of deodorant at all (Also, the way they stank, it’ll take nothing short of Lysol to freshen up the air).


An old image rehashed for relevance

 
And I forgot to mention, it was fucking hot and humid. I was sweating buckets by the time I got off the MRT at Ortigas station. It was rather weird, because I just came out of an airconditioned, half-filled, smelly train just 30 seconds beforehand.

Also, it’s just a short fifteen-minute walk to go to the office. In the sweltering heat. In Ortigas, where shade from the merciless sun is apparently a commodity. So I brace myself, walking down this street, laptop bag in tow, squinting every now and then as the sun was getting a bit too bright.


Not pictured: Ade having a heatstroke

 
So imagine my surprise and relief when clouds suddenly covered the sun and gave me some sort of reprieve from the heat. I figured if I move fast enough, I could make it to the office before the sun goes back and shower me with ultraviolet rays with a vengeance.

Then suddenly, it rained. No, seriously. It fucking rained. Hard.


“…Fuck.”

 
So I ran like ten meters to the nearest waiting shed, using my laptop bag (MY LAPTOP BAG! WITH MY LAPTOP INSIDE!) to keep me from getting soaked (more), since I apparently did not have an umbrella on me. As I ran to the shed, I was preoccupied by keeping myself from being flattened by cars, slipping on the wet road and splattering my brains all over the asphalt, and idunno, keeping myself from getting pneumonia. Okay, maybe a little too preoccupied. Because I didn’t see the deep water puddle which is conveniently located right under that goddamn shed.  And I don’t know about you, but standing ankle-deep in a puddle of water isn’t really a fun thing to do.

As the gravity of the situation sank in, I stood there, muttering curses under my breath, kicking water around, when about 30 seconds after I waded into that muddy puddle of yuckiness, the rain abruptly stopped.

 
Thus began my really, really bad Friday, dear reader. Also, If I ever catch you in an Indian outfit while doing a rain dance, I am so totally blaming you for my ruined shoes. And you will find my shoes up your ass.

So, threats of bodily harm aside, how’s the weather treating you?

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