When it rains it f'ing pours...

I lost my big umbrella... for the second time... And when I say "big umbrella" I mean, so huge you probably can't even imagine it. Big enough to envelop my entire body, to keep even my feet protected from the rain (and believe me I have a pretty long stride) Another note: I feel the need to clarify that the first time I "lost" my umbrella it was actually stolen by some asshole in the movie theatre who, in my opinion, must have had his eye on my navy blue beauty from the time the previews started. I take good god damn care of these umbrellas. Needless to say, the theif made the slip and I was left with a different, ugly, and mind you, smaller... navy blue umbrella. I disposed of it in protest. Anyway, my mother soon replaced my giant navy blue umbrella with a lovely khaki one and it is this one that I'm still mourning the loss of today. I set out this morning with my tiny purple umbrella and noticed on the way, that not only is one side limping and that my feet were soaked within three steps, but that the metal is RUSTING. Doesn't that seem like it should classify an oxymoron, a 'rusting umbrella'. Do I have to explain the irony I find in this scenario? I guess the rust is not doing me any real harm, except for maybe some image tarnishing (I'd judge someone with a rusty umbrella, wouldn't you?) I think it's just the principle that really irks me...and the fact that I really miss my big umbrella...Now, every time it rains I consider moving.