Back in the days when I woke up and traveled 45 minutes on a train to a job every morning, rainy days used to really get me down. Once I was in the office, there was something almost cozy about all us worker bees tucked into our cubicles while the wind hissed outside. But the getting out of bed was torturous. I have always struggled with the whole getting-out-of-bed ritual to begin with; add a dark, rainy day, and what little resolve I have goes poof.
I never imagined, though, then when my commute was as short as walking to the living room or neighborhood coffee shop, that rainy days would still be my nemesis. That I would still long to lounge and luxuriate. Or that after a few days of gray, I would want to drop it all and high-tail it to Mexico. Life just never stops serving us surprises, does it?
That’s a funny thing about finally getting what you want — it doesn’t always look or feel exactly how you thought it would. Call it human nature or a cruel joke, but so often when we get “there,” sometimes the scenery isn’t quite as breathtaking as we were anticipating. Blame our expectations.
But then, of course, there are the days when we expect nothing; when we’re just on a nondescript stretch of highway. Something about the slant of the light, the song on the radio, and the grip of our hands on the steering wheel creates a moment as breathtaking as a glimpse of the Grand Canyon. Perhaps even more so.
This has nothing to do with frittatas, of course, other than the fact that slices of this subtle, spring treat have sustained me morning, noon, and night these past few days. It is wholesome and simple, and perfect for these rainy days in May.