Unfortunate things

I've discovered another use for the dishwasher: dish-rack. The damn thing broke down and I've come to realize how much I rely on it. So now we wash the dishes by hand (yeah) and put them in the dishwasher to dry. Soon, very soon, we either get it repaired or get a new one, because it is one thing to stick your hand down the toilet to clean it since no one else will do it for you, another is to have the possibility of having a machine do the job and the damn thing not working—I'm sure you see the logic here.
And I've said damn twice... I hate doing dishes.
Besides the dish-washing adventures, coming back to reality has been an arduous task. We've been back for a week now and I'm still in Spain with mom and grandma. It was hard enough to go back to commuting, because let's face it, taking the subway is definitely not a joy ride, but this past Friday I had to walk across the bridge, again.
It seems that due to the torrential rain we had on Friday the tracks got inundated and so they shut down all subway service between Manhattan and Queens. Lovely. As I was almost paddling through the puddles insulting myself for wearing summery sandals, I realized that in 5 years I've had to walk from Manhattan to Queens 4 times: 9/11, the blackout, the strike and now the damn rain (there goes "damn" again). I've decided that even if I look like an 80s Wall Street secretary I'm going to start bringing sneakers to work, at least in a bag. No more blisters in case of a walkathon.
It could have been worse though, I could have been wearing plastic flip-flops that make you an instant ice-skater, like I saw a few passer-byes become.
I kept my cool as my pants were sticking to my legs (did I mention that it was raining, a lot?) and surrendered to my fate, knowing that at least this time hubby was going to pick me up at the end of the bridge (there was no way he could have driven into Manhattan.)
The weekend was a wash-out. The only positive outcome of such weather-related catastrophes is that the closets are now organized and the house immaculate.
So much for a weekend where the only task should be deciding at what time to hit the pool...