die Sonne scheint Heute: when rain attacks (and you still haven't bought an umbrella)

I now know it's time to buy an umbrella. Honestly, I wasn't convinced the first five weeks or so of rain. But today. Today was just too much.

Now that I've moved into my new flat on top of the mountain [see pictures below], I have to walk approximately 20 minutes to work every day. Under normal circumstances, I wouldn't find this to be a problem, or even much of a nuisance. But today. Today was a different story. This morning in particular was an exception because I woke up (or rather dragged myself out of bed after snoozing for 30 minutes straight) to the soft pitter-patter of raindrops on my window. It was a beautiful sound, and I wasn't leaving for work right away, so I brushed it off and told myself that the shower would be over by the time I left for work.

This was not the case. As I heaved open the heavy wooden door in the foyer to depart for Hansgrohe, I was met with a solid wall of water, the beginning and end points of which were indistinguishable. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed an umbrella sitting next to the door - a shining glimpse of hope for my suede boots and highly-soluble dress. But what if I take it and Herr or Frau Weisser need an umbrella today? Well there were two umbrellas. But what if they both need an umbrella today?

As you have probably guessed by now, I ultimately decided not to take an umbrella after convincing myself that the downpour of rain outside really wasn't that bad and if I just held my fleece jacket over my head, everything would be peachy. After the first minute of my trek in the rain, I found the spots of water spattered across the front of my dress to be quite comical (kind of like when David spilled his hot coffee on my shoulder in Berlin). This is funny. I have water on my dress. [In Berlin: This is funny. David's coffee just burnt my shoulder and stained my new dress.] I don't know what was funny about any of that, but I definitely remember being amused. After two more minutes, the drops of water on my dress were no longer distinguishable, bleeding into one another like a wet-on-wet watercolor painting. By the time I finally made it to Hansgrohe, I could literally wring water out of my dress. Which I did. In the stairwell.

I sneakily slipped past my coworkers without saying good morning, trying to avoid having to answer questions about my soggy state. Just saving us all a little embarrassment. On the bright side, my fleece did protect my hair, and it turns out that whatever fabric that dress is made out of dries almost as quickly as it moistens. Good deal.

At lunch, when all signs of the rain-attack had faded, my friend Heike told me that Hansgrohe has bikes (!!!), and if I asked, they might let me use one to drive back and forth to work. So naturally I got right on that and got permission to snag a bike for my ride home. This seemed like a really, really perfect idea. And then I thought back to the last time I rode a bike. Which I couldn't remember. [Now that I think of it, it must have been the weekend that Emily and I decided to bike literally all over Boston and almost ended up on the interstate.] But never fear! If I did it once, I can do it again, right? I adjusted the seat to its lowest level, and then mounted the Hansgrohe monster. On tippy toes, reaching the ground was still a struggle. Feeling nervous and unsure of myself, I decided that this bike thing was not going to work. I tried to dismount, flinging my right leg over the back of the bicycle. But there was a basket there, which my leg was not prepared to hurdle, and the Hansgrohe monster and I went tumbling down onto the asphalt.

Stand up.

Look around.

Run my hand through my....helmet.

Okay, I don't think anyone saw.

This should have been the point where I walked right back into Hansgrohe, returned the key, and complained that they don't have any bike options that are more suitable for short legs. That's what should have happened. But today. Today was different.

This new surge of determination shot through me [Kind of like when Dustin and I were skiing and we were almost to the bottom of the mountain. I was sliding down on my butt, crying. Come on Jenna, just try one more time. I pulled myself up and started flying down the mountain, nailing the turns I had been trying to master all day. Then I tore my ACL.] So, naturally, I plotted a new dismount technique and hopped back on the bike. Then I wobble-ily rode it to the bottom of the mountain, where I realized that there was no way on earth I would ever be able to ride this monster bicycle up the mountain, even if I had two good knees to work with.

So I pushed the bike up. And up. And up. And now I am back in my new apartment trying not to think about what is going to happen tomorrow morning if it's raining. Because instead of an umbrella to take to work tomorrow, I now have a bicycle. And I don't forsee that being especially helpful in terms of shielding myself from water.

On the other hand, I did get a roll of plastic bags from the Rathaus today when I went to register. The lady told me they're supposed to be for plastic recyclables, but what was the first thing that ran through my mind when she handed me the roll? Poncho.

Follow this link to see pictures from my weekend in Berlin:

http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10150985004024865.421276.501844864&type=3&l=bac4aeab47

Pictures of my new apartment, to which I ~~might be~~ am definitely allergic: