It's been a grueling week in Singapore rounded off with a knees-to-my-chest flight home.
As a welcome home special, this morning I got caught in the rain. Sorry, the Typhoon. I was minding my own business walking out of the bookshop when it hit. And in Hong Kong, it really hits. It buckets down and often doesn't stop for a good hour or so. As the rain worsened, I went through a mental list of everything I was a) wearing b) had in my bag and c) had on my face (mascara down cheeks? Not good for morale). And decided I had nothing that wouldn't recover after being drenched. And off I plunged. Into the wall of water.
Strangely enough, it was oddly relieving to be in that rain. After about 5 minutes of walking with my dress clinging to me and my hair plastered to my head, I started to feel quite calm. Like the week was washing off me, and that nothing is really that important anyway.
Of course the best thing of all was getting home, diving into the hot shower and bundling up in dry clothes with a cup of my-still-favorite-Nespresso to stare out of the windows as the thunder and lightening hit.
I feel just like just that girl in The Maggie B. Who, for-those-of-you-who-were-deprived-of-the-best-children's-book-on-earth-ever, faces a huge storm while out at sea on her little boat, and comes back inside in the midst of it to cook a delicious, warm dinner for her baby brother and her.
Sleepytime Tea anyone?