For the last two weeks, I have seriously considered growing a pair of gills and being done with it.
I have never been so sick of rain and water in my entire life. Day after day of pounding, wind-driven rain, filling up the sewers and drains, overflowing into the streets and yards.
The other night was our anniversary. We grabbed umbrellas on our way uptown, knowing that there was no way it would stay dry while we were out. Sure enough, two blocks from home…
Torrential. Downpour. Blowing. Sideways.
My umbrella was forced closed around my head.
I felt like the victim of a giant Venus flytrap.
Little Shop of Horrors was flitting through my mind.
I was not laughing.
The other thing frustrating me to no end is my dog.
Does not like to get wet.
Runs away from waves.
Hides in the tightest corner he can find when he sees bath supplies coming out.
Refuses to go outside if there is the chance it might sprinkle.
8 inches of stagnant mosquito-infested marshwater in the back yard?
Dives right on in…
It was cloudy for most of the day today. Cloudy and windy. But it did not rain.
As I went on my walk after work, the clouds parted, revealing blue sky. I asked the sun to please come out and play tomorrow.
Source: Tues Truthiness: Sound Off