I woke up to a nice day. I checked the esky to see what we had to start the day. Then I realized: we don’t have coffee.

The horrors of adulthood.

Instead of going to the cafe, I decided to go to the store to get us a responsible supply of caffeine.

More unfortunate truths of adulthood: suddenly, $4 is a lot of money, and you’d rather not spend it on your routine morning jolt.

I donned shorts, a tank top, and a pair of sneakers to transport me to the local supermarket. With my reusable bags en tow, I made it the two blocks to the store without a hitch.

I got a few more non-perishable essentials: flour, sugar, coffee.

No milk. They also still didn’t have toilet paper, one unprecedented bummer of moving into a new place during COVID-19 mania.

I’ve got a roll left, and I’m hoping those who have a stockpile have gotten their fill by the time I need to restock.

I entered Woolworth’s to sun, and left to rain. It was consistent rain, falling in sheets horizontally. After watching the water pool in the hairs on my arm I took a moment under a tree to wait it out.

Had my fresh flour gotten wet, it would have been more of a horror.

But it soon slowed down, and I was able to walk the block and a half left home without so much as a few drops coming down on me.

I opened the door to the balcony for the day as I worked on the floor, moving from blanket to poof to carpet.

Later, the rain came again. This time, the drops were huge. Visible, even when you look at the photo. It came on strong, and skipped away. A sprint of a rainstorm.

It seems I’m going to have to get used to this squalls sent in by the vast expanse of Pacific Ocean who is now my neighbour.