When it rains here, it pours – sometimes for days. It’s one of the minor inconveniences of living in a sub-tropical climate.
Despite the temporary disruption to an otherwise sunny year, the rainy season from January to March is enough to keep me indoors indefinitely, seeking shelter from the wild weather.
This unnatural seclusion - in a place that boasts an average of seven hours of sunlight each day - leads to the relatively unknown condition known as waterlogged exacerbated temperament (WET). And it makes me SAD.

“Have you got a cold?”
“No, I just sneezed.”
“You’d better go to the doctor and get something for it,” dad insisted.
I rarely get sick and I avoid running to the doctor every time I sneeze or cough, despite dad’s suggestion; but during this past week my body has felt as if it’s been systematically falling apart.
In fact, I’m amazed I haven’t dislodged any internal organs with the prolonged and relentless amount of coughing I’ve endured!

“I imagine my husband will walk in one day and find a pile of ash on the floor where I’d been sitting.”
“I know what you mean,” said the other woman, “it’s like an intense heat that surges from your belly.”
“Yes,” they all agreed, “sometimes it feels like you’ll just go up in flames.”
“Well, that’s something to look forward to,” they wink at me, chuckling conspiratorially.
Surely, I thought, there’s a way to avoid spontaneous human combustion when I get to that age.