Dear Rain,

I'm writing to complain about your unexpected appearance last night and this morning.

Do you know why I'm mad?

It isn't that you showed up two days early or made my morning commute a mess. It isn't even that you drenched me as I walked to work.

It's not the water you dumped on my head; it's the music you put in my head.

All I can think about is that song by Rihanna (or Marié Digby, depending on whose version you like better). Not only do I have the melody looping through my brain, but every three-syllable word I hear or see automatically gets the special Umbrella Song Treatment.

December suddenly becomes December-ember-ember-e-e-e and peppermint becomes peppermint-ermint-ermint-i-i-i (the folks at Starbucks got a kick out of that one). And while it's mildly amusing the first time or two, it quickly becomes annoying-oying-oying-oy-oy-agh!

So, if you could please go away and just come back on Thursday. That should give me enough time to permanently extract the song and erect a mental firewall in my brain. Then you can drizzle or pour to you heart's content.

Thank you and happy holidays-ida#$%... (whew, that was a close one).

Sincerely,
David