Moist

Note to self:  next time, get a house with AC.

Today, in our sweet little Necco Wafer colored house, it was 87 degrees at 6:00.  We do not have AC.  We have nothing except windows that open and let in hot air.  We are grateful for windows that open, that keep bugs out and let air in.  We would be bereft without windows.  But we wish we had AC.

I do not do well in heat.  Yes, I am taking deep breaths and trying to be zen about it all.  I am alive. (But hot.)  I am well. (But hot.)  I am whole, safe, happy.  (But I am fucking hot.)  It isn't the occasional hot day that gets you down, it's the third or fourth day of over 95 degrees that makes you melt.  The house holds the heat.  (Now we all know it won't do that in the winter!  It will leak heat like a Wiki-leak aficionado, like a mole in the Pentagon.)  It holds the heat and when the nights barely get below 60 degrees, there isn't enough difference to make it cool off much. After a couple of days of scorching heat, the house gives up and just lets us bake.  All.Night.Long. 

I loved the past two and a half days when it sort of rained, was cloudy, looked cold and cozy but was actually rather warm, a bit moist and pretend-gloomy.  It made me happy for a moment but it is now gone.  Gone, gone, gone.  Check the weather channel, we are in for at least ten days of plus 90 weather.  I am so happy, pissed off about all that sunshine.  But still, I am alive, safe, whole, happy.  I will deal. I will not complain to anyone except my small dog who is also pissed off. I will probably sigh loudly and often, I will probably act "put upon" (whatever that means) but I will try not to be too cranky.

yeah, good luck with that.

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