A Hard Rain’s A Gonna Fall

Literally, it rained all day today.  When Sam and I stepped outside, it was raining.  When I got off the PATH at Christopher Street, it was raining.  When my hunger won the battle against my budget and went out to buy a Subway sub, it was raining.  As I’m typing this entry, rain smashes against the kitchen window, sounding like frozen peas hitting the bottom of a pot.

Temperature wise, it’s warm enough outside to keep the water from freezing into snow, which allows a considerable amount of rain to latch on and crawl up the bottom of my pants.  It is also cold enough to allow the drops that have circumnavigated my umbrella and collected on my face to sting as its temperature drops just a little more.

Our company showed the recession who’s screwing who, by having a pretty decent holiday party.  I’ve never seen so many grown men and women latch on to such a missed memory as their time playing beer pong: that area of the floor is never going to smell the same again.  There was a delicious assortment of cookies, baked by people in various apartments.  The request was to supply baked goods for this party, not specifically naming cookies as the item of choice; yet, 95% of table were peppermint chocolate chip, cinnamon oatmeal raison, chocolate dipped sugar with sprinkles, or some similar variation.  I suppose people aren’t really into baking pies anymore.  That, or the New York baker majority find it difficult to toss a lemon meringue into their messenger bag and hop on the subway without making a mess.

People were drinking, playing some of the games crafted by the various departments for drinking, and were singing karaoke, which ultimately was fueled by one, or both, of the former.  But what was important that people were enjoying themselves.  It’s so easy to get caught up in the complexities of life, the curve balls and obstacles that one may encounter, and not remember something as simple as smiling and laughter.