Rain is confession weather. I hate it because it makes me desire to be completely honest, and I always end up feeling worse for it. Like yesterday. I was sitting on my porch-thing, and then it randomly started POURING. What the hell. There were barely even clouds in the sky, and then all of the sudden there was this intense downpour and I got soaked. And then I tracked water across the floor on my way to the bedroom to change. And the whole thing was stupid, because Matt wasn't home, and the fucking cat was outside, and then felt that it was necessary to track little wet paw prints all over the floor. Then, when Matt asked me how I was feeling when he got home, I was completely honest, and told him that I felt like CRAP because I got rained on, and he was slightly late, and there was nothing to eat, and I wasn't going to go shopping because it was fucking raining.
Damn, that was long. Okay.
Burnt-out light bulbs.