So, it finally arrived. It came sooner than I thought - the damn thing that can annoy me more than anything else these days, the thing that drags my mood straight down into a living abyss: rush-hour rain.

That means rainy season is here. According to Google, the rainy season in Saigon lasts from May to the end of November. Seriously, are you kidding me? I still remember that night clearly - it took me more than an hour just to crawl home from work, while it normally takes only 25 to 30 minutes. That evening I did not wear a mask because rain made it wet and uncomfortable. I had my hood and raincoat on. What could be worse than heavy rain outside and a tiny salary, right? I headed from District 2 toward Thu Duc Market, crossed Rach Chiec Bridge, and everything still felt fine. But at the first intersection - where I had to turn left to get home - things started getting ugly.

First, I had to wait about 15 minutes for the people stuck at the red light ahead to move. I was only a few meters away from being on my way home. But as if he could smell my cold loneliness, the traffic police officer decided I had to suffer a little more that day. He raised his hand and waved, telling everyone who wanted to turn left to go straight instead. Oh no. Everyone had to follow his command - no way around it. Honestly, at that moment I wanted to ignore him, really. I had never gone straight there on a rainy day, had no idea what was up ahead, and I knew it would push me past my route and force me to loop back. But how could I go against an officer on duty and all the guys honking behind me? I had no choice but to go.

Okay, after that first stretch I still did not know the road, but I thought things were fine because the street was wide and looked clear ahead. Well, I was blind to think that. It was badly jammed. I could not even see the streetlights at the next intersection, where I would have to turn left again and circle back home. Great, no hope of getting home early. On top of that, it was dark as hell - no light except headlights and the dust I had to breathe in because I was not wearing a mask. I thought rain might reduce the smoke and dust, but the swarm of motorbikes around me basically said: keep inhaling slowly for your lungs. I looked left, looked right - only darkness, headlights, exhaust, and a little glow from distant red lights telling me to wait another half hour. Luckily, when I got there, no yellow-shirt officer pointed and told me to keep going straight again. If that had happened, this story would be a few paragraphs longer, and you'd get bored reading about nothing but cold rain and smoky air strangling my lungs.

On the way back, I took a street I was not very familiar with, though I knew it would still lead me home. I was starving, so I stopped at a small roadside banh mi cart. I think the seller was an older lady. I remember asking why she was still selling in the rain, but I cannot remember her answer. Honestly, maybe things were not as dramatic as I make them sound, but if I don't exaggerate, who would read this? When I got home I was soaked like a drowned rat. After changing clothes, I lay down on the floor and ate my banh mi. In general, I am already pretty used to this kind of life, so there were no tears or dark thoughts. I just know one thing: I bitterly hate rush-hour rain, and I think everyone does.

Still, life is colorful. Even if I hate it, rain is still part of life, and I still have not figured out how to live through days like that. Let's see whether I can apply Don Quixote to rainy days. Maybe I will imagine these are trials I must pass to meet the one I love, like Don Quixote. That actually sounds fun. I'll try it and tell you all later, hahaha.

And so the rainy season is getting close. I hope everyone stays safe and peaceful on the road. As for me, I'm broke now, and with this sad little rain mood on top, it's like my wallet and my heart are both on fire. I don't even know who to tell anymore, hmmmm?