18 inches is not the size of my penis (or anyone’s penis for that matter). I don’t have a penis.
18 inches is the amount of rain our region has received in May and June so far (so far, because this morning, once again, is torrential rain).
18 inches is much too much.
Much too much.
Read all about it–Freak system is blamed for rain:
A winterlike weather pattern that stalled off New England has been the cause of all the misery since the start of May: our soggy shoes, flooded basements, and submerged streets.
Meteorologists say that the jet stream, the strong river of air 7 miles above us, hasn’t shifted northward as it usually does by this time of year, to allow more summer-like weather to move in from the South.
Instead, a series of low-pressure areas trapped by the jet stream keep drawing up moisture from the Gulf Stream, the warm Atlantic Ocean current, and spitting it back down on New England.
Water is good, vital, important, but too much of a good thing, is almost always a bad thing.
We count our lucky stars–what if it was snowing instead? We’d be buried. Oh, yes, thank god it’s not snow. We’re so lucky. Very luck.
Much too lucky.
But this doesn’t really do the trick. It’s still fucking miserable. I’ve seen glimpses of the sun, but I’m starting to believe it doesn’t really exist. Does it exist? Will you tell me if there really is a sun?