Didn't get washed away. Quite.

The rain didn't start getting nasty until after I got home yesterday, and we never did quite lose power -- the lights only blipped once. I expected Paris, our outdoor cat, to scramble in as soon as the storm really kicked in, but he kept not appearing. So I went out looking for him, hoping that he was holed up somewhere, rather than getting washed away by the torrents, some of which were higher than the parking lot's curb.

By the time I returned to the apartment (sans cat), I was as wet as if I'd lain fully clothed into a bathtub.

All my soggy garments got draped onto some flat surface or another, and I wrapped myself into my fugly woobie bathrobe, the one made from cloth as thick as my finger. When the rain finally slacked off, Paris came yowling to the door, wet enough himself to be wrung out.

In other news, my former manager showed up at my office to pick up some subcontract work, which finally gave me the opportunity to sincerely thank him for firing me last year :>