Drip, drip, drip.

You know, I shouldn’t be feeling sorry for myself here in the dry, climate-controlled comfort of my newsroom cubicle.

When I leave this secure location later this evening, I’ll hydroplane my way to a home that lacks a basement and isn’t located smack-dab in the middle of a flood plain.

That ought to be enough encouragement to get through this most miserable of spring days in the Maine foothills, but somehow it isn’t.

Splash. Whoosh.

This is one of those days when I regret choosing a profession that’s so contingent upon the sun shining. True, I’m getting paid, but do I really want to work the phones and have three or four athletic directors regale me with the same information three short-straw-drawing, ill-fitting-windbreaker-wearing types told me on the morning news?

Um, it’s raining. Raining hard. Oh, and did we mention this rain stuff is wet and has the potential to ruin every outdoor plan you made for today? And tomorrow, and the next day, and, well, probably the day after that, too.

Yeah, thanks for the inspiration.

Glub, glub, glub.

I could have been a mail carrier. Yes, I know, the idea of playing hopskotch around calf-deep puddles to deliver Sports Illustrated sounds about as enticing as arthroscopic surgery without anesthesia to some, but at least it’s guaranteed exercise and guaranteed work. You know: Come rain, come snow, come sleet, etc.

That reminds me. I need to stop at the post office. My 2004 Strat-O-Matic baseball game cards should have arrived by now. Heck, I can probably recreate the American League Championship Series and World Series and exorcise the Bambino again before anybody in this neck of the woods gets to play a live game.

No track meets, no lacrosse games, no tennis matches and certainly nothing resembling the national pastime went off within a one-hour radius of where I’m sitting today.

Plop, plop, plop.

Feeling oh-so-sorry for myself, I call Oxford Hills Comprehensive High School athletic director Jeff Benson to get the low-down on another certain cancellation that’s going to ruin my week.

Suddenly, my vocation is less vexing.

“Hey, when it rains or snows or it’s wet in the wintertime, all you need is a court and a truck to clear the road so you can get there,” Benson said.

My perceived problems are solved as simply as rearranging a deadline, maybe two. Benson gets to double-click on a spreadsheet and find room to reschedule dozens of events for his six spring varsity sports teams, not to mention junior varsity and freshman activities.

That, provided he can find fields from here to Harrison suitable for the task.

Good luck with that.

“I just took a look at my lacrosse field and there are geese swimming in the middle of it,” Benson said.

Chuckle, chuckle, chuckle.

Then I realized Benson wasn’t laughing.

“They migrated from the pond which is located in left field at our baseball field. And it’s all draining down into our softball field,” he said. “It’s really terrific.”

The Oxford Hills track and field team was preparing to meet in the wrestling team’s headquarters, next to the gymnasium.

They’ll get a few extra days to prepare for a meet at Maranacook next Tuesday. Or is it Wednesday?

Benson finds it for me. He consults the growing list of cancellations, taking a deep breath as he anticipates the titanic task of scheduling an entire sports season in the month of May.

I scribble down the information and thank Benson for his time. Secretly, I’m thanking him for the dose of perspective.

Splat. Splat.

Hey, how do you spell the sound geese make?

Kalle Oakes is a staff writer. His e-mail is [email protected].