It was a rainy, gray day.  She sat alone in the house, her mood as
drizzly as the weather outside her closed window. The house was stuffy,
but she walked on her treadmill instead of braving the outside. 
She read a book while she walked, then kept reading on the old green
La-z-boy in the living room until she’d finished the chapter. 
After completing her morning routine, the small brunette sat at the
computer for an hour or two, working, playing games, writing comments
on her cousins’ Xanga sites.  It was a low-key day.

Suddenly, she had a burst of motivation.  Needing to get
groceries, she moved downstairs to leave.  But before she could
leave, a string of chores vied for her attention.  She dried her
hair, cleaned the kitchen, cut coupons and checked supplies. 
Then, finally, she was ready to leave.  She put the garage door
up, just in time to see that the drizzle had changed to a steady
downpour.  She would need an umbrella.  Luckily, she kept one
in the car.  Loading up, she headed for Meijer where she spent the
next hour meandering though the aisles, a running commentary filling
her head regarding which products she needed, which could wait until
next week, what would be the quickest way to finish her shopping, what
could possibly possess that woman to allow her 2 year old son to stand
in the seat of the cart and then leave it in the middle of the aisle so
I had to go back the way I came to get around them, and other such
grocery store digressions.  Finally, though, she finished, luckily
finding an open checkout lane staffed by a young, very bored staff
member.  Then, braving the still-pouring rain, she filled her
backseat with her grocery store purchases, stopped at the gas station
to fill her tank with $2.19/gallon gasoline, and headed home for lunch.

After lunch, she spent the still gray afternoon making spaghetti sauce
for that night’s lasagna dinner and two different types of cookies
(choc. chip and peanut butter) before her husband came home from
work.  She made repeated trips to the computer for email
communiques as well.  Then she began preparation for lasagna, at
which point she realized that she was out of lasagna noodles and had
not bought them earlier that day.  Much chagrined, she braved the
rain one more time to get the necessary ingredient and finally
completed the pasta dish.  While it baked, she began the grading
which had waited patiently for her all day while her husband watched
the Simpsons next to her on the couch.  She completed dinner
preparations, set the table, and they partook of her afternoon’s
labors.  After the meal and with very aching feet, she began the
clean up process which required unloading and reloading the dishwasher
and hand cleaning the rest of the dishes so that her kitchen would not
be a mess when she awakened the next morning to make coffee for her
grateful husband. 

The day ended as it began: slowly.  She finished the book she’d
read that morning, watched Eureka with her husband and made her way to
bed.  Maybe tomorrow it would be sunny again.  Maybe tomorrow
she’d get her grading done.  Maybe she would just take tomorrow as
she had today…one rain drop at a time.