I used to enjoy laying in bed at night, under a blue chenille comforter, with a bunched-up, flannel-covered, down pillow under my head.

I'd listen to rain drops tripping down a window on my white noise machine; a lullabye designed to drown out my city life.

I can't help laugh at the irony.

As my family and I huddle, shivering under a dripping wet palm tree, I dream about getting my hands upon a city life noise machine.