The secret of winning and losing

I sulked and moped at the thought of going outside. It was stormy, billowy, skirt-raising, jeans-wetting kind of weather, but I had to go out to get the bank checks done by the end of the day. That's what you get for leaving things to the last day, I suppose.

I stopped to gaze with renewed horror at the sheeted continuum of downpour, then took a deep breath and plunged into the rain, little umbrella held aloft like a rapier. It took all of thirty seconds for the umbrella to invert and prove itself a fickle ally. Typical. Now I regret laughing at the double layered golf umbrella Bobbis and Doobie use.

So there was I, left alone against the infernal elements of nature. The classic battle - man against nature - that man is just set up to lose.

Not to be thwarted in the check-gaining objective, I persevered in my endeavours. Put on my brave face and battled against la pluie. And so I got soaked in a likely impersonation of a human sponge.

On the way back, I realised I couldn't quite continue in my office all day, with my jeans leaving puddles wherever I went, like a territorial dog. Conveniently, I came to the realization just outside a Banana Republic. So I bought myself a new pair of jeans. And socks, for they too had been victimised. And cashmere jumper, just for good measure.

Sometimes, ya just gotta lose a battle to win the war.