Getting rained on may not seem like a big deal to most people. However, if you're living in LA, where it's sunny for 300 days out of the year, rain is always an unexpected and rare occurrence. This is why many people here are unfortunate enough to never carry umbrellas around with them. Although we could really use some more rain, especially in this drought, getting caught in it unprepared is definitely the worst. Here are all the emotional stages one feels when they're caught in a rainstorm without an umbrella.
1. Denial
You're walking back home from class, and suddenly, you have the weirdest feeling. It's really subtle--like something is a little off--and that's when you realize that you're not walking in the sun anymore. A cloud is covering it. Wait... a cloud? That's not normal. But you shrug it off. It'll definitely be gone soon, you think, and you continue walking. Suddenly, a splash of water hits your face. Wait... was that what you think it was? No, it couldn't be rain. It doesn't rain here, this isn't Seattle! It was probably cooling fluid from an air conditioner... hanging from a tree... in the middle of open campus... Yeah, that's definitely it. Or maybe someone dropped some water from a passing airplane and it was perfectly timed to splash on your left cheek at that exact moment?
But as more and more tiny droplets fall from the sky, you realize that your notion of birds shooting water guns at you wasn't as plausible as you thought. It's raining, and you don't have an umbrella.
2. Anger
This emotion can occur throughout the entire ordeal, however, it's usually the emotion that hits first. Great. Why do these things always have to happen to you? Of course you didn't bring an umbrella, who would've thought it would rain today? These thoughts compile into a ball of stress, which quickly morphs into anger as the rain comes down harder and your situation worsens. In this stage, you're usually left cursing everything and everyone in sight, and especially people with umbrellas walking so goddamn slowly in front of you. Can't they see you're getting rained on? They probably can and are laughing at you, those a-holes. In this stage, your face is probably stuck in total bitch mode. For those of us who already have RBF (resting bitch face), this expression could be called ABF (active bitch face).
3. Desperation
People at this stage can be seen booking it to the nearest buildings to get to drier spots. For the record, for many people coming from out of state, these scenes are usually pretty humorous. If you do somehow manage to make it to a dry spot, there's still the question of how to get home. Some people will try dialing everyone they know to get a ride, but for most of us, we have to walk. At this point in the emotional journey, your anger has cooled and you start seeing people with umbrellas no longer as idiotic pedestrians, but as people who could really help you out. Should you mooch off of their rain protection? The braver ones out of us might do just that. Trying to squeeze someone else under an umbrella fit for one is definitely a hassle, but also, they can share your company, which is definitely worth it, right? Just try not to hug them after, no matter how thankful you are, because no one wants your soggy embrace, so keep that to yourself.
Usually, however, for the shyer people among us, it's you against nature, and you are forced to face nature alone. At this point, you are desperate enough to use your backpack or a folder or even an assignment as cover, because fuck that, you just got your hair done yesterday.
4. Sadness
Generally, this is the point when you realize that your makeshift rain protection was a bust, and you're probably going to be miserable for the rest of the walk home. You're soaked to the bone, lonely, and you can't feel your toes, or any extremities, for that matter. Every thought is filled with how nice it would be to have warm, fuzzy socks on your feet and a hot shower running. But although these thoughts are depressing, they're also the only thing that's going to get you through this stage.
5. Acceptance
Okay. You're wet. So what? It's been raining for longer than you can remember, and you've been soaked for so long now that you can barely feel anything at all anymore. This isn't half bad! You're super numb, which means you either accepted your status as human fish or you've gotten hypothermia from the cold and you're going to die soon. But don't worry, 99.99 percent of the time, it's the former. You're going to make it home, and whether that'll be in five minutes or longer doesn't really matter anymore. You're going to make it. You don't really care at this point.
6. Denial (again)
You get back to your dorm, looking like a drowned rat, and receive a hero's welcome. "How did you survive?" your awe-struck peers will wonder as they gaze upon your sodden clothes and dripping hair. And you know what? You don't know, but they don't have to know that. "It was no big deal!" you say, and brush it all off as a trivial occurrence... that is, until you're alone in your room. You immediately call your mom to send the largest umbrella your family owns at once. However, once you're dry again and the sun starts shining throughout the next couple of weeks, you'll tell your mom to hold that umbrella, because your last encounter with rain will have become a distant memory. Hah! It doesn't rain here! It's sunny all the time.
And that, my friends, is why this is a never-ending cycle.
