Ok, if you’ve been following me closely (mom, Erin, husband to a lesser extent) you may have noticed that I’ve had a lot of #firstworldproblems this week.
Side note: one of these days you’ll read my rant about the use of “#firstworldproblems”; my usage is ok because it’s an ironic reappropriation because I said so.
Although technically, lack of rain is actually more of a third world problem but let’s not go there.
In my semi-charmed world, I’m complaining because my fucking weather.com app keeps fucking telling me it’s going to rain. Every goddamn day.
So I put on my adorable yet uncomfortable rainboots yet again.
And does it ever rain? Eh… Once in a while, for like a second.
As I walk quickly to Penn Station at the end of what will be another 16 hour day, I feel my heels slamming on the ground through the unsupportive rubber. At this rate, I’ll have to drop my galoshes off at the cobbler with the rest of them.