Several people warned me it might rain on Tuesday. I checked the weather forecast and they said strong chance of rain on Tuesday. I reminded myself I better start preparing in case it rains on Tuesday.
So last night I’m awoken from a dead sleep in the middle of the night. My blankets are soaking wet. “WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON??? ITS RAINING!!! . … Oh. Right. It’s Tuesday.”
I never cease to amaze myself.
Generally, as a homeless person who has survived 14 winters (and counting) I generally stay one step ahead of the rain and cold. I closely monitor all the weather reports. And I get in “battle mode” all winter: “Its Me against the Weather!! And I ain’t goin’ down!!”
But every now and then I’ll get soaked.
This one time, I had survived one of the biggest rainstorms of the season. Three days of non-stop rain. We got about 6 or 7 inches of rain. But I managed to stay virtually completely dry. Nary a drop landed on my head (I’m so cool).
Then the storm FINALLY ended. So I crawled out from under the awning where I had been taking shelter for the last several hours. And I walked to my stash spot where I had my sleeping bag stashed in the bushes on the Berkeley campus (triple-bagged in three garbage bags to ensure maximum dryness of my sleeping bag — I’m on top of it, baby!).
But just as I was grabbing my sleeping bag, the sprinkler system went off. They had them timed to water the lawn every evening at this time. So I was trapped within this barrage of exploding water. By the time I had run across the lawn to safety I was COMPLETELY drenched. From head to toe.
Sometimes life can be so ironic, its sickening.