After days of scorching temperatures it’s such a relief to see rain tonight.

I have to walk 15 minutes from Steeles to my Markham home every afternoon, and lately it seems like I’m in a mirage. I come home and I’m sweating from every inch under my pair of slacks and a shirt.

So gross.

Rain. I love looking out the window when it rains.

Do you know how Hollywood often shoots actors looking out a raining window when they have someone or something on their mind? A older episode of Friends comes to mind when Joey moved out of the apartment— we find Chandler and Joey were thinking about each other upon a window sill.

This isn’t the case for me— well sort of. I usually don’t think of anything worthwhile. Most times in these window watching situations, I find myself staring at the rain droppets falling on the plants we have in the backyard. I think it’s really entertaining to watch the leaves wiggle. Beacuse I still have the imagination of a nine-year-old boy, I would imagine what our perennials would say to each other when they wiggle in the rain.

“Oh my gosh, I can finally get a cleaning, feels so good”
“Ew, acid rain, I can’t drink this.”
“Oh shoot, the owner already watered us. We’re going to drown.”

You get the idea— I would make dialogue between my hostas. But really, I bet plants do communicate with each other in some way.

Wiggle wiggle wiggle.

I also enjoy sleeping when it’s pouring outside. I love hearing the hard dropplets on the roof, and I love hearing the rainwater fall onto the gutter. That sense of being protected from the elements knowing it’s hell outside brings me real comfort. When I was younger, I would imagine that my bed was a large floatation device, and that I was on this continuous flowing river. I would buckle myself up along with my stuffed animals— Hugsie (Remember this picture from my first year rez room?), Garfield, and my little panda. I recall that I would actually talk to them and assure them that there would be nothing to worry about, since I had “seatbelts” which is the blanket, and “stabilizing fins” which are the underlying drawers.

To this date, I still find myself mentally assuring them on occasion but with a few “maturity adjustments”— I no longer tuck them in beside me, and my conversations with them are not as elaborate.

But crazy enough, I still do it. Those very dolls are still on my bed—although only Hugsie comes with me to Waterloo.

Instead of tucking Hugsie in, I use it as a sleep-hugging device.

The forecast calls for thunderstorms into Thursday morning and afternoon. Sweet. More wiggling.