The Love Story...

...Between me and my umbrella.

Me and umbrellas have an unfair relationship in which they walk all over me and I have no control over the matter.

This ugly relationship started when I began university. I made the decision to commute from home (due to the fact that I'm unable to cook, so moving out would mean starvation) but commuting meant a 30 minute walk from my train station.

In the spring, this walk is awesome and has some really pretty scenery going on. In the winter, this walk is Hell. I don't even get snow in the winter to make the cold look pretty, I just get freezing rain and hailstorms. It's awesome.

To make things even better, I suffer from poor circulation. Yes, at the ripe old age of 20 I'm already suffering from poor circulation. The worst part is my hands. They react badly to the cold. And when I say badly, I mean badly.

My hands decided a few years ago that they would swell up in cold weather. Clearly, my hands love me. Anyway, this 'condition' has become nothing but a joke to my best friend, who constantly refers to me as sausage fingers or Shrek fingers in the winter. Yeah, me and my best friend often insult each other for fun.

So, back to the umbrellas. With that half hour walk ahead of me, I must be prepared for every possible weather situation. This means that I always have an umbrella in my bag.

The minute it starts raining, the umbrella goes up. This is when the horrors begin.

I walk along a main road for a part of my journey. This road never fails to be extra windy. So, basically, my umbrella doesn't stand a chance. Within minutes, my umbrella fails to stay strong and gives in to the wind. Cue dramatic brolly blowing inside out and causing me to look like an idiot. Cue beeps from the cars going past with the passengers inside having a good old laugh at my misfortune.

I've lost count of how many umbrellas have turned against me in the last two years of me being at university. I'm used to it happening by now but today I got an extra special treat.

My latest umbrella broke. Before it had even been opened. As I stepped out of uni and saw the rain, I grabbed my umbrella, went to open it and OH I was left just holding the handle. The whole top part of the useless article had completely broken off. I didn't have a hood on my coat so it was clear that I was going to look like a gorgeous sewer rat by the time I got to the train station.

So 20 minutes into my walk, a lorry starts driving up the road. There is a giant puddle on the road. I didn't realise what Mr Lorry Driver had in mind until it was too late. He went straight through that puddle at full speed and I was left looking like I'd just been for a swim in my clothes.

It's clearly been an awesome day for me.

Did I mention how much I hate umbrellas?