Today there was a 50% chance of rain. Translation: the guys on campus carrying around long umbrellas had a 50% chance of not looking like needless Gene Kellys or Donald O'Connors. (Don't get the reference? Wikipeida "Singin' in the Rain" and be enlightened.) Another translation: the unprepared people (like me) had a 50% chance of looking stupid and wet, thus snarling at the dry Gene Kellys.
So i got wet. Not a big deal. What is a big deal to some people, though, is getting their hair wet. I kid you not, i saw a 35-40 year old woman walk out of a building holding a genetics textbook over her head to protect her hair. Call me old-fashioned, call me a prude, call me whatever you like, but putting your hair on a higher level of importance than any textbook is a shame.
Here's where the devil and angel on my shoulders battle over my plane of thought. "What a rude, undeserving person. Why would she care that much about her hair... blah blah blah." Yeah, my devil is kind of a nag. Then the angel says, "Well, i don't know that lady. I don't know her circumstances or how she was raised, what she thinks about genetics or textbooks in general. Do i treat my books better? Yes. Is it that important to rant about? Not really."
My angel is interesting. My good side isn't stuck up. It's laid back and chill, doesn't accuse people of anything. It's an observer that takes life with a grain of salt and choses other paths with a calm, level head.
My devil, on the other hand, is flat-out annoying. And i usually side with the devil at first. It's quick, but not always correct. It's the first thought that pops into my head, but not usually the most logical or sensitive one. If i could draw, i would draw my angel in jeans and a hoodie and my devil in a pencil skirt, blouse, and unnecessary rectangle glasses. My angel would be leaned up against a wall or sitting back in a chair. My devil would be blogging about the annoyance of the rain... Oh, crap.
