Soggy Conspiracy

I left the house three times today.

It bucketed rain three times today. Only during the times I was out and about. And always when I was at the furthest point from my house. Coincidence? I think not.

We're not talking mizzle or drizzle or even a good, steady rain. We're talking wrath-of-god rain. During the morning outing (on my way to shout at Telstra) I was so soaked that I had to stomp to my office and stand under the hand dryer for nearly an hour before being rendered fit for civilisation (hippie skirts have got way too much fabric!). On the plus side, it amped up my annoyance level, so I got to shout at Telstra with much more verve and enthusiasm than I would otherwise have managed. Believe me, they deserved it - I'm not good at throwing hissy fits and I hate being bolshy but today I set a personal best when faced with Telstra's usual 'sod off, you peasant' attitude.

The evening drenching resulted in a failed bid to get a decent blip. I hopped around my tripod waving my umbrella ("Can't get the camera wet! Not the lens, not the lens!"*) and generally looking like something the cat dragged in. Equally daft-looking people hurtled past, having unpeeled their chinese takeaway dinner from the plastic carrybag and pulled the bag over their hair. Because running two blocks with a small plastic bag on your scalp is really going to keep the worst of the weather off you.

This is the only photo that isn't festooned with what might charitably be called bokeh (but are actually monster splodges of rain). A dog's breakfast all round!

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* I got the camera wet. And the lens.