Diary of a Low Budget Superhero

I just wrote Mother Nature a note on Facebook. No, there's no real reason. I'm just awake and cranky about it. I have good reason to be cranky. I'm cranky because it's still hot and humid. It's almost October, for fuck's sake.

Follow up:

You know, those sweltering, humid dog days of August are the worst part of the year for me. I don't do well. The air gets thick, my head fogs up, I get sinus infections, I don't feel good, and activities simply...cease. I just don't wanna do a thing, because it's too flarking hot to do anything. So I mentally check out and sip endless glasses of water while I gaze at the thermometer that says it's a hundred degrees. I don't mean to overstate it, I'm not planning to move to a snowy mountaintop, because I do love summertime. Clear skies and bright sun, yadda yadda. It's just that right now in my life the best parts of summer are closed off to me. In summer there's supposed to be cookouts and vegetable gardens and hammocks and refreshing swims and abundant fruits and picnic tables and shady trees to sit under with a book. Sounds nice, right? Well I don't have any of that. I've spent too many summers stuck in the city. It gets to be too much. Hauling a watermelon back from Stop N Shop is sweaty work, and then the fridge is far too small for a watermelon so we have to get a half, then we have to eat it right away...and anyway, watermelon is best when munched outdoors after a cookout. All summer, two lousy cookouts. One swim. Lame. It's too stifling, there's nowhere to GO, I just schlep from this stuffy, airless apartment to work and back.

All this is manageable for the brief time that it gets REALLY hot and humid, for like a month. But this weather will not end. It's almost 3am right now and it's still over seventy degrees with upwards of eighty percent humidity. It's September 25th.

Where's my crisp, cool sleeping weather, I asked Mother Nature. On Facebook. I can't sleep. Joe just went to bed, and the whole side of the sofa where he had dozed off is one big Joe-shaped sweat spot, his tousled hair is sticking to his face in clammy, moist strands. My poor man is too hot, too. I keep getting prickly heat rash under my boobs along the bra cup line, so I keep having to reapply baby powder to try and keep it as dry as possible.

I have to say, I never feel like this in the desert. It's so dry, perspiration just wicks right off you. You need to keep drinking water so you don't dry out. Here, it feels like the water I'm constantly drinking is oozing right out of me along my hairline, dripping into my eyes.

*sigh*

No point in whining, really. Just...come on, cool nights, come on!