Nomadic Nurse Diaries

Dear Raccoon Gods of the Soggy Socks,

Washington winter has arrived, and it’s official: I am a winey little bitch when it comes to being cold and wet. The rain here isn’t your typical drizzle; no, Washington rain has commitment. My flannels haven’t been dry since September, my hair hasn’t had volume since last week, and at this rate, I’m one puddle away from needing a snorkel to walk the dog.

So here I am, slipping and sliding across highways that feel like slip ‘n slides, hoping to avoid hydroplaning my van into the nearest ditch. Every time I step out, my clothes just soak up the rain like they’ve joined some strange “Pacific Northwest baptism” ritual I didn’t sign up for.

Flannels? Wet.

Socks? Wet.

My will to live? Slightly damp.

And don’t even get me started on what the rain does to my hair. I thought I had this great messy bun thing going on, but one step outside, and I’m in “drowned squirrel” territory.

But apparently, I’m out here, braving the misty wilderness and damp weather, exploring new levels of wet I never knew existed. Winter in Washington, thank you for showing me just how delicate my threshold for cold and damp is.

Until next time, may my socks find warmth and my hair recover from its swampy ordeal.

Love,

Your Nomadic Nurse