This morning, I'm writing from a sunny New York City. The skies are blue, it's pleasant out, heck, even the constant honks of unamused vehicles sound cheery from my twelfth-floor perch.
But maybe I'm just not paying good attention to said honks' real feelings, seeing as I'm busy packing.
Now it was rainy and crap in Boston when I left it Sunday, and I suppose it's not all that surprising that a few hours south along the coast it was still rainy and crap. And I came on this little 2-day jaunt specifically for a museum exhibition, something essentially unaffected by weather. Hell, I might have benefited from the rain there; the museum was already massively crowded, which I can only assume would have been worse if the wait time in the line outside hadn't been such a dampened affair (though it may also have been better, as a museum's appeal rises exponentially on a rainy day...).
The point is that, no matter why I came on my vacation, no matter my expectations of what I would do/see/accomplish, bad weather is always a downer.
Which is why it always seems to clear off just on time for you to head to the bus home...
-Posted by Jilly
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
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