All day, all day long I've been listening to the watches being issued for severe thunderstorms with promised deluge. Not. A. Drop. None. There's a serious looking cloud hanging to the south of us-but I know we won't get rain. Grand Island got rain, a bit-but that's 100 miles to the west (99 miles to be exact) where's our rain? Where's our rain? In Grand Island, apparently.
I feel sick, and I might just cry. This is worse than the Christmas I wanted a Barbie, and they got me a subscription to the Times Literary Supplement instead (no, they didn't I made that up-but it does illustrate the degree of disappointment I am experiencing when the promised rain failed to materialise).
If my parents had bought me a subscription to the Times Literary Supplement rather than Barbies I wouldn't devote so much time to maligning them on a blog. OK, I'm not really maligning them...because it is all true. Except for the Times Literary Supplement bit.
Where's our rain?
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