Today, I found out the hard way to ALWAYS listen to the meteorologist.

At 9:00 a.m., photographer Jason Walsh and I were sent to Newport News to cover a fire engine that had crashed into a convenience store. I walked into the newsroom in my favorite pair of high heels. Smartly, I changed into tennis shoes because it was raining and I knew we were going to be outside. While changing my shoes, I looked underneath my desk and saw my rain boots. I thought, "It's not going to be wet enough for those today."

I was wrong.

When we arrived to corner of 36th and Wickham, it was pouring. Not just a drizzly, light rain -- but a torrential downpour with fierce, whipping winds. I kept expecting to see elephants and giraffes marching two by two down Wickham.

During our noon liveshot, I can honestly say I was miserable. I was wearing black pants, camisole, sweater, scarf, tennis shoes, a heavy wool coat and that was all topped off by rain jacket. It wasn't enough. In the five minutes I had to stand still and introduce and tag out of my story I was drenched through my clothes to my skin.

After we shot some more video and interviews, Jason and I hightailed it to lunch and a military surplus store to buy dry socks, pants, sweaters and hats. All the while, I was cursing myself for leaving my warm, dry rain boots under my desk in Norfolk.

I get now, Jeff Lawson is right. When he says it's going to be "cold and blustery"...prepare for the second coming of Noah.