No flying monkeys, but I might not have been able to see them through rain pelted glasses.
I left Applewood in a whirlwind of golden leaves, glowing from early morning sun against a backdrop of angry indigo clouds. I brilliant rainbow split the entire scene for a surreal moment that only needed dramatic music and an award winning plot line to score an Oscar.
Cranking against the wall of wind and rain through Denver West I acknowledged to myself that I was probably going to be late for our Monday meeting.
I was. And I was greeted with a stern look, a meaty hand pointing at the clock and a gruff voice. My boss said: "The meeting starts at nine."
My response was: "You'll be alright."
He asked that the doors be closed and the room got quiet. Unfortunately I had missed the previous comments about lateness in general and more specifically relating to my absence.
Now, in my defense, I am ALWAYS early to the meeting. I've sat through every other meeting-starts-at-nine speeches. Never missed a one. And he saw me come in the building soaking wet. I grabbed my stuff and went straight to the locker room and from there straight back to the meeting. I was ten minutes longer than usual on my ride in because of the rain. When I left the house in Arvada there was no rain. In fact, I didn't see the ominous clouds until I was about halfway to work.
Oddly, he didn't direct the lecture at me. Apparently comments had been made before I walked in the room. A co-worker informed me that when he commented on me being late to the meeting she informed him that I was still five minutes earlier than he had arrived to the meeting the previous week. It was more of a general department-wide tongue lashing.
I fared pretty well. I was prepared (always be so) for the worst. If I had been really smart I would have stepped into my rain pants when I stopped to put my jacket on. My legs looked like burly cherry popsicles when I got to work.
Life is good.