Thursday, November 12, 2015

I'm Only Happy When It Rains

Title photo credit: Bidgee

Here I am, ready to type another post… after yet another period of not posting a damn thing.  I can make a pile of excuses: I’ve been busy being an editor for Listverse. My in-laws were here last week.  I’m tired.  My cat stole the keyboard.  You get the idea.

I actually have two other ideas for full-blown list-style posts, but there’s no way that I’ll throw them together this afternoon, and I’ve decided that it’s been too long since I posted something.  (I also have a number of ideas for Listverse articles, not to mention two short story ideas and crazy thoughts about writing a novel, but that’s beside the point.)


The weather where I live has been rather cool and rainy this week, and it has me thinking about something:  I like rain.  I like it when it’s grey and wet outside.  Thunderstorms are wonderful, of course, but lightning and loud noises aren’t necessary for me to enjoy rain.  The rain itself suffices. 

I’ll put this song here for illustrative purposes, even though it’s not talking about rain.

I can enjoy a grey, wet day in the summer, but cold, wet, rainy days are my absolute favorite.  They literally charge me up.  I’ve had mornings where I wake up tired, wondering if I have the willpower to go to the gym and then be productive afterward, as well.  Then, I hear the sound of rain against the bedroom window, and that’s often enough to get me up and make me want to be outside.  That feeling will hold throughout the day.  People generally seem to want to stay inside on rainy days, but I want to go out and do things. 

Cold rain does more than wake me up.  While the title of this post is an exaggeration, as I’m perfectly capable of being happy on a sunny day, rain starting to pour down can improve my mood.  I love the feel of cold, wet air hitting me.  It can make my whole day seem brighter.  I think cold, rainy days can even make me more sociable.  If I’m ever at a stereotypical funeral, I don’t know how the hell I’ll ever be able to mourn.

Here’s the thing:  I don’t really know why I like rain.  I haven’t simply convinced myself that I do out of some attempt to seem gloomy or Gothic. I remember liking rain even as a small child.  I don't remember anything really awesome ever happening to me on a rainy day, so rain isn’t bringing back happy memories for me.  My favorite kind of weather tends to make many people miserable, but so far as I know, I don’t tend to thrive off others’ misery.

Maybe it’s the coolness.  I’ve never been one to get cold easily, but I sure as hell get hot easily.  I’m one of those guys who you’ll see wearing a T-shirt and shorts at temperatures where most people have packed such clothes away.  People have asked me if I’m in the Polar Bear Club.  (I’m not.)  Perhaps cold and dampness make a good counter to the apparent furnace I’ve got going in my body.  I hardly ever got cold even as a kid, so maybe this possible explanation holds.  Luckily, my mother was never a stickler about me wearing a coat.  Apparently, other parents thought she was crazy for not making me wear a coat.  I bet they were the same kind of parents who thought their kids needed Band-Aids for cuts.

Whatever the reason for my rain-liking, I doubt it’s going to change anytime soon.  I’ll keep enjoying cold, rainy days, even though my wife, family, and most of my friends probably think I was dropped on my head a baby.  (I was only dropped a little.)

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