Hotel Mayfair, aka Weather Jail

I wish I was out wandering Copenhagen right now, but instead I'm trapped inside by the weather, unable to go enjoy my last full day in Europe.

From up in my room on the 4th floor, the rain doesn't look too bad, a bit drizzly, nothing I can't handle. So I went down to the lobby and drank some coffee, to check it out from street level. It's pouring. The rain was coming down sideways from the right, I took a sip of my coffee, looked back, and it was raining sideways from the left. I can't go out in this weather.

I used to be a good Pacific Northwest girl. I'd walk all around Seattle in the driving rain with no umbrella, no raincoat, and I'd be happy. Like a duck. But somewhere along the way, I became sick of all that moisture everywhere. And now, I don't care if it's Seattle, or Denmark, or bloody Botswana, this weather makes me suicidal.

It's still early, not even 11am yet, so I'm attempting to wait it out, hoping it lets up soon so I can still have time to see a few things.

If not, well, I guess I get wet.
And angry.
Hooray.