This morning, when I left for work, I was all, "booo, it's cloudy and looks somewhat thunderstormy!" I like thunderstorms, but not when I'm driving to work because once it starts to rain EVEN A LITTLE BIT everyone forgets how to drive. Thunderstorms are OK once I'm AT work, though, because the power might go out and the last time all the power went out I didn't have to work for two days.
It didn't end up thunderstorming on the way to work and EVEN BETTER there was the best rainbow. I'm assuming that seeing a rainbow means good luck. Which is good because Joe bought a lottery ticket (hey, why not?) although I'm happy to report he didn't play Hurley's numbers. I don't need any bad juju. Don't worry, I won't forget about you when we win (do you like how HE bought the ticket, but WE get the money?) because obviously I'll quit my job right away and have loads of time to blog. Or sleep. One of those.
Even if we don't win the lottery, rainbows are still pretty, right? I've always had a fondness for them on account of one of my two childhood idols was Rainbow Brite. The other? Punky Brewster. My mom insists that I dressed myself like Punky when I was little, complete with rainbow suspenders, a rainbow belt (this also doubled as a Rainbow Brite belt when I played Rainbow Brite), pigtails, freckles (those never came off), and red, heart-shaped sunglasses. I've never seen photographic evidence of this, so I'm not sure I believe her. I've also been told that I inexplicably spoke with a Southern accent as a tiny child, but I don't know if that's true and I have no idea where the accent went.
Anyway. Here is a picture of the rainbow I saw. It looked way awesomer than that IRL, I promise.