This Wednesday, it rained an insane amount at Villanova. The thing is, I never saw it coming. Before college, my mom would always have the news on at night, so I got a preview of the weather for the next day. But here, I have to check the weather app in the morning right before I leave to make sure I’m not wearing shorts in a snowstorm. That almost happened in September. Just kidding. But seriously. On Wednesday, I looked at the report and saw there was an 80% chance of rain. It was only cloudy the day before, so I figured a light drizzle was in store. I was so wrong. But anyway, I prepped for the rain with my jacket and my trusty Tims (If you write it as Timbs I write your name on the list of people I hate). Either way, I found out that my boots, despite the description, are not waterproof. The rain was so treacherous on Wednesday that if it went on for another forty days the earth AND the ark would flood. So, here’s my biblical parable about dealing with the flood at Nova.

Verse 1. Going to Class

The second I left my dorm, I knew I underestimated God’s attempt to ruin my day. This rain was coming down sideways. But even after breakfast, I didn’t go back to pick up my umbrella, because that would mean I have common sense, which I don’t. So I trudged through the river that was the walkway on campus, noting that my jeans would never be dry. And when I got to class, I faced a dilemma. While at least my pants absorbed water, my rain jacket has water on the surface, so it was dripping everywhere.

Verse 2. In class

As I was saying, my rain jacket was dripping every drop of water that had fallen from the sky. Even worse, my backpack was soaking wet. Previously, my entrepreneur project group had thought of a jacket that covered a backpack in rain, but in my infinite wisdom, I said it wasn’t a good idea. So my backpack was wet, and when I pulled out my notebooks, they were almost more wet than when I cry on my failed tests.

Verse 3. Leaving class.

Then I have to put my damn wet jacket back on! It’s like sweating during a warm-up exercise, unesscesary, and embarrassing. And now the rain was moving sideways like a broken faucet. The wind would blow my hood off so my hair would get wet, or I could blindfold myself and wander into a puddle. My solution was to walk backwards so the rain would hit me in the back. Sure, there may have been more than a few yaks about me, but don’t judge me, because I am an innovator. Everybody else just isn’t ready for that.

Verse 4. The power going out

The unofficial name for Nova isn’t Villanofun or even Villasofun, but the much worse, Villanopower. When a college dorm loses power during rain, it may or may not be a bad thing. Whatever! It gave me a chance to snuggle with my pillow (ha you thought I was going to say girlfriend) and pretend to watch Netflix on a black screen that was my dead laptop.

Verse 5. Venturing back into the storm

Since I had a study session to try to avoid another failed test, I had to reemerge from my powerless cave into the flood. Unfortunately, both my pants and boots were soaked, so I had to put on completely new clothes, and I had déjà vu because I got supremely soaked, again. This time, my sneakers got even worse, and are still wet at this moment...4 days later. The worst part? When I got back, I took a shower to recover. To get away from the rain, I stepped into a personal rainstorm. As if that makes sense.

Verse 6. Dealing with optimists.

Optimists are those people that see the glass half full. Of rain. Because there are crazy people out there that enjoy rain. There’s something about cold liquid falling on my head that doesn’t make me happy. I mean sure, I’ve listened to Unwritten by Natasha Bedingfield and stood in the rain, but after a certain point I realize that my clothes are wet, there’s water in my eyes, and I haven’t actually gained anything. Plus in the fall, it’s cold. You can’t even crunch the leaves because they are soggy. It’s just the worst.

As I write this, I am doing a double dry cycle on my clothes, because they are still wet, but I will sacrifice my notes. They haven’t done much for me anyway. Hopefully by the time the semester ends my toes won’t be pruned from my wet socks. #1 advice to high school seniors: forget academics, just bring an umbrella.