It’s raining cats and dogs

Or, if you’re from the south of Chile, you say it’s raining iron bars (lloviendo a chuzos).

I can remember exactly one time in my life that I enjoyed the rain. I had just gotten home from Chile and I was at Colby working as a research assistant. It had been really hot and muggy out for what seemed like forever and it started to rain. My friend K. and I had access to the roof of our dorm from our rooms, so we went outside and frolicked in the warm summer rain. I know that sounds totally cliché, but we seriously did. It was great.

As a rule though, I hate rain. I am a person who needs a certain amount of sunlight to be happy. Rainy days literally get me down. I don’t mind them so much if I can stay in bed all day and watch TV or read, but on days when I have to traipse through public transportation with grumpy Santiaguinos I really hate it.

However, in the name of trying to be positive (see my last post, I’m happy, I swear!) there could be worse things than having to momentarily be out in the rain today. At least my job involves mostly being inside in a building that has heat. I don’t own a kiosk, I’m not a construction worker, I not the guy who takes care of cars, or a delivery person. So really I should count my blessings.

And plus, tomorrow or the next day or whenever it stops raining, the mountains will look great, the air will be (temporarily) cleaner and every day is a day closer to September and spring in Santiago.

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