Raindrops keep falling on my head...well, something does, anyway

Dear Everyone in My Office:



Exactly how long were you going to let me go around with bird poop on my head? (Not my bird's poop; on the way to work, I walked under a telephone wire upon which a pigeon was perched, while it (the weather, not the bird) was desultorily raining, with a few big drops every now and then. So when I felt some kind of drop land on my head, I wasn't sure if it was bird poop or rain; I tried to check it out with my fingers, but couldn't feel it at all for some reason. Whereas, by the time I got to work, it had dried, and become perceptable; and around 11 a.m. I was finger-combing my hair and felt, yes, dried bird poop. Feh. I washed it off with a paper towel and warm water in the bathroom, and I'll take a shower and wash my hair tonight; still, I have a certain feeling of ritual uncleanliness. Feh again, I say.)