I Ain't Seen The Sun Shine Since-- I Don't Know When

It's been raining in the Smallish City, almost constantly, for six days. I just looked at the ten-day weather forecast; every single day is marked for "rain" or "showers", with the sole exception of next Thursday, which will be "mostly cloudy".

The roof is leaking non-stop. I've devised ever more clever and elaborate mechanisms to absorb, collect, channel, and dispose of the water after it comes through the roof, but before it hits the ceiling. This morning I will go to the hardware store and buy some plastic tubing, silicone sealant, and other supplies for what I envision as the ultimate drip-container-- a system which, if successful, will have the dual benefits of preventing further ceiling damage and allowing members of the household to shower with actual rainwater. They say this is good for your hair.

But a solution to the leak itself appears far away, on the other side of this biblical deluge. Meanwhile, the lawns of the TurboPalace are growing out of control, unmowable due to the rain. Soon, I'll need a scythe to tame them. The minds of Smallish City residents are slowly but inexorably waterlogging into a collective depression and lethargy that may not lift until August. I'm dreaming of a particular overheated, sandblasted cactus plateau in southern Utah. I think I see mildew growing on my arms and spanish moss on the nape of my neck.