A little rain will fall.

I am beginning to sound like an old Codger.

(That word makes me happy...say that 3 times fast)

Each and every morning, between tripping over Karma to get to my coffeepot at 4:00 am and waking up, I scour the morning news for signs of rain.

And each morning, I see Cody (the weatherman) sit still, arms folded, bow tie starched and perfectly perky, shake his head. "No rain"

On Friday they took actual footage of 4 drops hitting the sidewalk in north Sacramento.
THIS was newsworthy. The camera panned back to Cody with a bored and hopeless look on his face.

 He just shook his head. "Are you sure someone didn't sneeze?"


After my daily forecast of no rain (And if you ask me Impending doom for all)...I curse.
I say bad words. I say fuck and shit and speak of the world coming to an end.

Karma is concerned.

Karma understands.

Now before you judge the 36 year old woman who speaks in bad language to her innocent widdle pit-bull, hear me out.

The world is coming to an end. We will incinerate in fire and drought. I am certain.
Why?
I dunno. It has never been done before.
Sure there have been meteorites, aliens and frozen wastelands. But water drying up...not in my cinematic memory.

At 5:00 I am sweating on my machine at the gym, wearing my yoda shirt, listening to Regina spektors soothing notes of craziness, trying NOT to let my eyeballs land on one of the television screens that proclaim what we already know. No rain. What the fuck?

I notice the other early morning people eye worriedly at each other. I sympathize and fist bump my chest twice before giving them a peace sign.

I am assuming that their eye raising is at my awesomeness. Nothing else.
I wink for good measure.

At 5:45 Brandee and I are walking Tinky and I am huffing about the rain sitch. (That is what I have named it.)

Everyday this happens.
Poor Brandee.
Poor Tinky.

Not poor Karma. She gets it. She understands.

On Friday the sky looked grey (ish) We were at outside playtime. Parents wandered in to pick up their children and I greeted them on the way in and wished them a good weekend on the way out.

I felt a cool drop on my face and my arms.

I screeched (ABSOLUTELY FUCKING SCREECHED) "It's RAIIIIIIIINING!" I lifted my face to the sky's and spread my arms out in celebration of life returning to earth. (I am dramatic sometimes...only sometimes)

There were no more drops.

I looked down at my arms.

I looked up at Jen. "I think it rained"

"I think you got pooped on Beanie." She looked so sad for me but pointed out the brown poop spots that freckled my arms and my face.

"Poop?"

A parent nearby chuckled.
"A bird really just POOPED on me. For real and true."

This saddened me. See. The birds know. They are scared shitless of this drought.

Another parent walked in as I was brushing the bird poop off of my skin. "A bird just pooped on me."
She stared at me "for real?"
I nodded
 "A bird just shit on you." She stated.
 "Yep"
"Nice!"