Funny how even my most random experiences always seem to come back to wine.

Last Tuesday, I had one of those mornings where you wake up with a small laundry list of errands you want to get done for the day, while breathing shallow wondering how you’re going to magically accomplish it all. We all know this feeling, and it’s not a relaxing one.

Washing up and dressing quickly, I ran out the door completely oblivious to the fact that I still had a mascara line sweeping off the left eye from the day before, looking frighteningly similar to a member of Kiss. Note to self: mirrors were actually made for a reason.

My day had officially begun, albeit on a stressful note. With umbrella in hand, I strolled through the lush green park of Parque Vallparadis to the government center where I stood in line for an hour to get my new identity card. Having failed miserably, because I didn’t humor the bureaucratic Gods with enough unnecessary paperwork, I left cursing under my breath as I continued on to our local bread shop located halfway across town. Clearly, this was not a good omen for the rest of my day.

With a piping hot loaf of crusty French baguette under my left arm, savoring the delicious yeasty aromas, I started my ascent up the hill towards the grocery store. But as I was nearing the crest of the hill, I noticed a stream of water snaking down the slope directly through my legs. Feeling a slight chill from the light misty rain, I concluded that the stream couldn’t have been naturally created, yet I couldn’t see the origin began. That was until….not two minutes later a thundering swishing sound came barreling over the hill coming …