Why is getting caught out in the rain so traumatic?

Day #4 or 400 of rain here in the Atl. Last night leaving pilates class, a torrential down-pour greeted me (it had briefly let up when I'd arrived) and I had half a football field's walk to my car. In my cheap Forever 21 sandals that prevented me from walking faster than a turtle, I made my way across the parking lot with my bag and yoga mat. Since I had just worked out and was going straight home, it really didn't matter if I looked like a giant wet rodent, but I was absolutely miserable walking in the rain. I had the same feeling I had when taking my Logic final in college - an urgency to be anywhere but there. If my car had been another 6 feet away I probably would have just laid down in the fetal position on the parking lot. I thought human beings are mostly made of water and so we gravitate to it or something? I don't know, but at least I'm not as bad as my family's dog Annie, who if a single rain drop hits her it's like someone has shot her with an electric glue gun.