A Donald and Daisy Day

If you're a duck living in Manhattan, today would have been your ideal Sunday. The rain started late last night, continued while we all slept (though admittedly was broken up by some delightful thunder claps), and then proceeded to fall sans cesse during the daylight hours.

As we all know, I am not a duck and therefore today's weather pissed me off.

Okay let's be fair about this. I love rain and after the hot weather we've been having I guess on one level I was actually pleased to see the drop in temperature and the cool raindrops falling. But I don't own gumboots and the universe should know this. The universe should also be well aware that my jeans are perfectly hemmed so they almost - but not quite - touch the floor when I'm wearing flat shoes.

So Universe I ask you, why could you not just stop the rain for the 30 minutes it took me to get to the Museum of Modern Art (by bus mind you, because no friggin' cabs would stop for me)? But noooo - Mother Nature had to keep the drops coming! I got all the way to the front door of the MOMA too, only an hour after they opened this morning, but the line was already almost around the block. And my shoes were squelching and my jeans were literally soaked three inches from the ankles. I was so disheartened. So I did what any sooky baby would do and hailed a cab from outside MOMA to take me back home. Cause I had no trouble getting a cab there did I, Universe? You sick bastard.

My mood lifted somewhat once I got home and took off the wet clothes, stringing them around our apartment/Chinese laundry. Looking at my gym timetable, I realised there was a Pilates class starting in an hour, and I felt confident that would buoy my spirits too. Gym clothes on, and out the door, dodging the fattest raindrops and up the street to Club H.

I don't know what it was but I was terrible in today's class. This was a traditional Pilates Mat class so we did all our exercises on the floor. Lots of leg lifts, ab work and resistance with the Pilates ring. I just wasn't coordinated today and my hip joint kept popping and then my leg went dead at one point. Something was just off. I looked around the class (always a mistake) and off to my left was this woman who I'm sure was the New York Pilates Champion 2011 - all taut muscles and expert Pilates ring control. Bitch. Me, on the other hand, I struggled to remember to breathe (a sure sign I am distracted) but I did some good sit-ups and the instructor told me I had a "nice line" (I don't know what that means either). The hour lesson was over pretty quickly, but I was still not cheered. Some treadmill and weights work helped (ditto filling my head with the "Empire Records" soundtrack), and so when I left after about 45 minutes, the gym was starting to fill up and I was too tired to be grouchy anymore.

The rain however, had not changed a bit and I got splotched the whole way home. I'm looking outside at dark skies and rain that is falling straight down, and showing no signs of stopping. I'm not in a bad mood per se, I am just disappointed that the day turned into such a wash-out. Why can't it be like this when I'm cooped up in my office five days a week?!