another day, another downpour

It's been raining solid for six weeks now.
"Good for the garden", my neighbour says. "Go **** yourself" is the reply I'd love to give him, but it normally hides behind a more respectable "Yes, John"
I hate rain. It feels as if every raindrop is a personal message from above, reminding me how shit my life is and rendering me back to how I deserve to be - wet.
Summer wasn't always like this. I'm sure I have memories of marvellously mild Mays, jaunty Junes and just-about-bearable Julys. I lost my virginity on the 1st of August in a heatwave for Christ's sake. I got so over-heated from a four minute hump I almost collapsed and died on top of her.
Poor Sadie.
She was two years older than me, and experienced. She'd just been dumped by the captain of the College basketball team. Having sex with him then being with me must have been like savouring a fillet mignon then eating a Tesco Value cheesecake. When we'd finished, I went red with embarrassment and exhaustion while she pulled the husks of barley from her knickers. I was so uninspired by the event it was fully three years before I had intercourse again. We were both drunk at a party. Mandy was four stone overweight and uglier than a Picasso interpretation of Princess Anne. Everyone else has paired up and copped off and we just kind of fell together naked. Bad, bad memory.
It's the weather, you see.
Rain brings pain, my friends, and that's all I have to say about that.

RC 7-9-08
1427 BST