After what seems like week after week of relentless rain here, I went to bed last night listening to yet more torrential downpours.
I had long-ago started to wonder if weather like this can seriously ruin your life, and I conclude that it can. It saps my enthusiasm for anything, and makes me want to shut myself away inside and do nothing. Knowing I have to take Ollie out in miserable wet and dull weather every day has made me dread the time when I have to get ready, and see him excited to go out.
Constant cleaning of muddy wet paw-prints on the kitchen floor, doormats so wet they never dry, and a damp dog all evening, despite my best efforts to dry him off. Nothing to see out of the windows except more rain running down them, and having to have all kinds of different pairs of shoes at strategic places to avoid walking-in the wet leaves that I have to trudge through.
I went out to the shed this morning to get something, and walked into a two-inch deep puddle where it had flooded inside overnight, due to the overloaded water table in the ground. The concrete floor has soaked up as much moisture as it can, and is now leaking it like a wet sponge.
As it is still pouring down outside, I have no inclination to even begin to try to sort it out today. So I just closed the door and came back inside, totally and utterly fed up with it all.
It is literally too much for me to cope with mentally. Too much water, too much constant rain. It seems we no longer have seasons. Just rain, summer and winter.
I’m just sick to death of it, and I really am at the end of my tether.
So much for ‘Merry Christmas’.