Rain drops keep falling on my head

So I never thought I'd say this, but....yesterday I hated the rain.

I had to go to the post office to put something in the mail. First, an explanation: I live under the delusion that if I actually go into the post office and put my letter in the slot, it will somehow be delivered faster than if I put my mail in the little blue drive up mailboxes. I know it's silly; I know there is no Sméagol-like creature back there whose only job is to wait for me to put my mail down the slot so that he can grab it and scan it and run it to the mail truck as fast as his spindly legs can carry him all the while stroking it and calling it his Precious. I realize all of this. But it makes me feel better to physically take my letter into the post office--I feel like I have done something constructive in getting the letter to its final destination.

So anyway, I went to the post office. Of course, the minute I pull into the parking lot the heavens open up and Perfect Storm erupts. Hail, lightning, torrential downpour...and me in a white t-shirt and straight hair. After a few minutes hoping in vain it would let up a little, I decided I was just going to leave the car door unlocked, run in, and run out. Once I had settled on the dash and deliver approach, I prepared myself to go outside. Just as I was placing my hand on the doorhandle, Zeus hurled a huge lightning bolt in my general vicinity. I screamed and instinctively locked the car door (as if to keep out the lightning?). I ran into the post office, slipping and sliding and finally placed the more-trouble-than-it-was-worth letter in the slot (from which I did not hear a comforting gollum). I waited in the doorway of the post office for a few seconds and, realizing the tempest was not going to let up, I ran to the door and tried the handle. No dice. I ran around to the other side. No such luck. I tried the rear doors. Nothing. Through the pouring rain I looked through the window and realized to my horror not only had I locked myself out of the car, I had also left the car running. Through the wind and rain I could hear Howie from the local talk radio station warning everyone of the severe weather and telling people to get inside. As I was already completely soaked, I walked slowly into the post office to see if I could use their telephone. It was then that I had a second horrible pair of realizations: 1) I didn't know anyone's phone number but my mother's; 2) I had talked to my mother earlier in the day and she said she was going to be gone for the afternoon doing errands. I called my mother anyway and tried to leave a calm message while I kept the string of obscenities in check.

Two hours later my amazing sister came with a spare key.

I hate the rain. In limited circumstances. And I'm thinking of getting my keys grafted to my wrist. And I may just start using those little blue drive up boxes instead.