Musings of a Slightly-Damp Commuter

The rain rains. The sun shines. The rain rains.

Why does the rain not get its own word for what it does? Of course, the rain can lash it down, bucket it down and piss it down, but in the general term of what it does, it can only describe itself.

Maybe, like me, rain is what rain knows best. It’s all it can do. Sometimes it will be a drizzly rain, hardly worth mentioning really. On other occasions it can be so torrential that hundreds and thousands count the months (and the cost) of its consequences. But at its core, that is what it is. Rain. It can never be anything else.

It can aspire to be torrential, but if this is at the detriment of others, is it really worth aspiring to?

Like the rain, I will continue to do what I can do, sometimes at the most inappropriate times. I mean, someone should really tell the rain that heavy downpours in August, our supposed summer month, are not appropriate or welcome.

At the end of the day…it gets dark. Nothing else. The rain will…rain. The sun will do what it does so much more gloriously, and shine. I will try to channel a bit of both, using the rain to cool and calm me rather than adding to its outpouring with my own tears.

TFIF Dress-Down Friday!

Thank flubalubs it’s finally Dress-Down Friday. Not just because Friday signals the end of the week, and in this case for us in the UK, a long weekend with Bank-Holiday Monday, but because I finally get to wear jeans to work.

After twelve and a half years working in the NHS, where jeans were not allowed, except for the once-yearly charity event, Jeans for Genes Day, the company I now work for has Dress-Down Friday each week as one of their benefits (wow. I now have a job with benefits!).

This may not seem like much to you, but years ago, before I entered the thirty-something crisis period, I would always say “I wish I had a job where I can wear jeans to work”, usually followed by a big sigh. Workers wearing jeans usually seemed more relaxed which I guess was the appeal for me.

While I only get to wear blue jeans to work, I can get away with black jeans the rest of the week, although I wear smarter dresses and skirts too, depending on my mood. If I feel like I need to be more confident, then a dress comes out and when I get to work I slip on my heels.

While this job may not be my dream job, I have acquired that which I had dreamt of years before. It’s a denim- clad step in the right direction.