After two weeks, the sun finally shone. And it's a good thing, too, because bucketfuls of Downy can never take the place of clothes sun-dried to a crisp.
For more than ten days, we were really rained out. And while I do love the rain, I don't quite like it when there's just too much of it. Heavy rains reminds me of my university days and the hassle of wading through the germ-infested waters of Espana. And of the horrendous EDSA traffic. And of dangers--real and imagined--lurking behind dark, rain-drenched street corners.
My present-day rainy-day paranioa has nothing to do with Freddie Krueger imaginings and the dangers of leptospirosis. It is now very real: mosquitoes, a sick child, clothes smelling like a damp mattress, the fiery chili bush losing its spice.
But today, the sun shone. And in my mind I am Katrina and the Waves: I am walking on sunshine.
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