Rainstorm

The older I get, the harder I have to work to look nice. It's unfortunate, but when I was young, I could pull my hair into a pony tail, even wear glasses, and look fairly OK. Now, there's a whole routine to pull it all together, hide flaws, improve on the good points.

Sometimes nature works against me.

Today was one of those days. I was heading out for the afternoon. Found the right outfit to meet the weather and the activities planned. Hair looked OK, make up, OK. Fine, I'm ready to meet the world.

I finished my first appointment (french lesson) and had to make a quick stop to drop something off in the neighborhood. As I walked out of my teacher's building, I felt a few drops. No big deal, this is Paris. But, my makeup and hair were cute, so I got out my umbrella, trying to save the "look". Luckily I did, because in about 15 seconds, the sky opened up and it was pouring.

I had about 5 blocks to walk and I was on a schedule. I couldn't duck into a shop or a doorway. I pressed on. When I got to my stop, the door was closed, no one would answer. Several minutes of trying cost me the shoes. Now they were wet. I slipped the paperwork that I was delivering under the door and started walking to the metro.

Now the streets were flooded. I had to leap over the gutters to avoid disaster but finally made it to the metro. When I got inside, I realized that my pants were soaked all the way up to the knee. My shoes and socks were soggy. Luckily my umbrella saved a substantial amount of my hair.

As I rode on the metro, I realized that I was the only wet person. When I got to WICE, ditto. Many people didn't even know it had rained. My only excuse for looking like a wet dog. Just another day in Paris for this 50-something.