It is raining; it is the rainy season, therefore it rains
but when it rains and it is gray and dreary, my energy level--never high to begin with--dwindles to new lows, and all I do is think whilst consuming cups and cups of tea or coffee or, on really bad days, glasses of wine before the designated hour.
And I think of many things, of why people contracted to do work don't show up, of how my mother used to make a dish we called cowboyfood and recently finding a similar recipe for a dish that really seems to be enjoyed by cowboys of southern Texas and northern Mexico, of why some friends find it difficult to respond to mails even after multiple mails from me and of why I have too much time to ponder these items.
When it rains
and it is gray and dreary and humid.