Rain rain don't go away, oh we need you this dry and dusty day.

I love rainy days. Love them. I could totally live in Seattle, even though I hear it doesn’t actually rain there as much as we think it does and housing costs a million times more than it does here. No matter. I love the rain. Last night I had the joy of being woken up by thunder. I do my best sleeping during thunderstorms. I inched my head around the pillow to see the clock, afraid this wonderful thundery goodness had come right before I had to get up. Doesn’t it always seem to happen that way? You’re all jazzed to go back to sleep, but your alarm is set to go off in ten minutes. This morning, however, the rainy day gods were looking out for me – it was 6:00. Now, I know some of you are reading this and saying, “Six! I’ve been at work for hours by then!” And to that I say, “Nyah-nyah. I get up at eight and I don’t even feel bad about it.” Then I stick my tongue out at you. And then I go back to sleep for two more hours. Getting out of bed on rainy days is tough, especially when it’s the kind of rain that blocks the sun. Your room is dark and cool, the thunder and rain are lulling you to sleep, and you have to get up and get dressed. Not fun. (Less fun for Aaron, whose morning duties include walking Miles. Miles does not love rainy days.) Rainy days are peaceful for me. Relaxing. I feel like there’s less pressure when it’s raining. Late to work? No problem! It’s raining. Of course I can’t work out today, it’s raining. You want me to do something besides sit in this chair and read this book? Sorry, no can do. It’s raining. Love it. Love the rain.