It's An F'n Nor'Eastah!

Not much to say except it's raining like a Thailand monsoon outside. Didn't leave the house today. I don't think I even showered. I'm the city version of Tom Hanks in Castaway. No one here except me and what was that volleyball's name? Wilson. Just me and Wilson in my apartment on this blustery, rainy day. And my t.v. And my computer. And my Internets. And my coffee machine. Come to think of it, this isn't anything LIKE Castaway. Who am I kidding?

I haven't seen it rain this hard, this long, in ages. We have evacuations. We have flooding. We have power outages. We have tornadoes. We have a totally screwed Boston Marathon tomorrow.

On the plus side, I went out on my balcony earlier today and stood there just to listen to the rainfall. There's nothing more relaxing than listening to a spring rain, folks. So peaceful, so calm. It loosens the mind and frees the spirit. It also loosens the bladder. After exactly 46 seconds I had to go back inside, because I had this sudden urge to go to the bathroom.

They're saying that 7.81 inches of rainage fell on Central Park today. That's a record if you're keeping score. We're talkin' the equivalent of 16 feet of snow. Or something.

It's an F'n Nor'eastah!