There are times when the heavens open and I can't keep myself from walking out into the downpour. The impulse comes and before I know it, I'm walking down the street breathing in the rain-heavy air and marveling at the power of the storm. I stood for a good ten minutes at the corner of our street watching the wind whip the flags on the Common and the play of lightning on the Charles.
Now, I'm wet.
I had thought to go to see Sigur Ros tonight at the Opera House (the Opera House... imagine), but after confirming that they had tickets, I didn't get out of the office again until the box office had closed. The thought process thereafter began somewhere in the, "I really want to see them, so I'll wait until they open again," range and then with surprising alacrity faded to, "I really don't want to wait around for the next hour or so to find that they're now sold out," and then straightaway into, "Meh." I missed Nouvelle Vague earlier this week, lost to a similar train of thought.
What I did instead was to wander to Borders to ponder retail therapy... and then passed on that as well. The best I managed was to get a not-nearly-so-clever-as-I-had-first-thought shot of a woman standing outside of Bank of America with a Union Jack Umbrella.
Color me bored. And lonely.
A partial aside - will someone who actually has the information please get back to me about when and where I'm supposed to be if I'm working BeerSummit this weekend?