If you grab something in a hurry because you really need it and then find out it’s less than useless, do you toss it away or keep it for some unknown reason? Yeah, me too.
It’s raining here.
It’s been raining since Sunday.
It’s going to be raining through next Sunday.
It’s wet; it’s miserable, and I have to go to work in the mess. Work as in getting up, getting dressed, putting on makeup, fixing my hair, walking to the car, driving to the office, and walking in to the office. All done while it’s raining.
I know we need the rain. I don’t even mind the rain if I could stay in bed and read, but I can’t. I have to work. It’s a necessary thing if I want to eat and read. Which I do.
Rain shouldn’t be a problem for I own umbrellas. Lots of them. They are in my house. In my car. Possibly even in my purse.
I was lucky this week for I did a bit of straightening in the kitchen/dining area two weeks ago during which time I saw a folding umbrella. Better than that, on Monday of this week I remembered seeing it. That’s a small miracle in itself as I have slept in the past two weeks which normally clears my mind of everything.
On Monday of this week I grabbed the folding umbrella, which was small enough to fit in my purse, which is where it has been since Monday.
Yes, it’s raining here, but rain in Florida is done in spits and starts. We may experience a deluge for up to an hour, and then nothing for twelve hours after which we get flooded for forty-seven minutes or so. If you’re lucky you can travel and walk during the twelve hours. This morning I have to walk during the forty-seven minutes and needed the umbrella.
I knew right where to find it. I didn’t however have instructions on how to use it.
I was able to remove the case while still in the car. I even removed the Velcro wrap around holder thingy.
I stepped out of the car knowing all I had to do was push the silver thingy in and slide the folded umbrella parts toward the top and it would open.
There was now silver pushy thingy.
I shoot the umbrella.
It didn’t open.
I turned the top toward the ground and snatched it back toward me.
It did nothing.
I held it out from my body and twirled in circles relying on centrifugal force.
I fell down. It did not open.
Anger rose at the same pace as the water on the sidewalk, so I grabbed the damn thing and shoved the prongs toward the top.
I opened. All ten inches.
I held it over my head and headed in to the office. By the time I arrived my hair was the only dry thing about me.
The stupid %%$#*! umbrella is sitting in a semi-open position on the file cabinet. I am sitting wondering what the hell to do with it.
If I hang it upside down it will make a great basket to throw useless things into – things such as this damn umbrella.
From the life and mind of Wanda M. Argersinger
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