Not Really The Best Of Days

I'm not doin' so hot at the moment.

Not quite an Alexandrian No Good, Terrible, Rotten, Very Bad Day; but it's inching its way there. And it's my fault.

Here's the sitch: I'm an idiot. Since it was so hot yesterday, I decided to leave my windows open an inch or two, so that my car wouldn't be the super-heated box o'death it's occasionally become lately.

And then the Rains came. The kind of precipitation you'd reserve the plural pronoun for: The Rains. We'll also accept 'torrential downpour' and 'cumulus diarrhea'. Pooploads of rain. The good news is that my car wasn't hot. It was however, pretty much sopping wet. There was a small pond in my driver's-side door handle, and several important papers in the back seat (scripts, comic book pages, a magazine with Teri Hatcher in it) were ruined. And my butt was kinda wet from driving to and from Frederick.

And now my bankin' woes. It's not my 24-hour period. It's my hope that conditions will improve by this evening. I don't know how, exactly, I just hope they do. And that's all I can hope for.

Have a good 'un.