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Soup’s On

July 22, 2011

So I’ve been gone for a while, doing my stuff.  There was teacher training stuff, then back-to-school stuff overlaid with still working stuff. Work stuff got really stuffy with my company apparently flushing itself down the toilet. And in the meantime, there was the starting to teach stuff. The learning and the teaching parts were all exciting and fun, but in effect were a bit like a really rich creamy chocolaty fudge frosting slathered over a pile of dog shit.

And then one day I went for my daily coffee and kvetch session with Coworker, during which we ran into IT Consultant at the cafe. We chitted and chatted, and 10 days later I find myself at the mall (ew!) trying to find a shirt to flatter my interview suit, which, thanks to ashtanga, fits me better now than it did 6.5 years ago when I was (a) running, and (b) still in my 20s.

(I learned something about myself today: I haven’t purchased work clothes in at least 3 years… just yoga clothes, really.  They say you should dress not for the job you have, but for the one you want.  I’ve apparently been aiming at camp counselor.)

But I come here not to regale you with the Story of My Summer.  Nay, I come before you today to complain:

It’s hot.

It’s ridiculous.

My house is steamier than the inside of Cerberus’ mouth. If I wanted to experience weather like this, I’d live in Alabama.  Or on the surface of the sun.  No, wait, the sun’s a dry heat.

My toenails are sweating.  Boyfriend and I have substituted “DON’T TOUCH ME” for any other potential terms of endearment we might otherwise utter in passing. The cats don’t even have the energy to whine and knock things over.  Okay, that part’s working for me.  But neither my complexion nor my hair are fit for this climate. I’m a ball of frizz resting on an oil slick floating on a sea of sweat. With a half-decent pedicure.

Have I mentioned I’m a pitta?

Since this happens maybe three weeks out of every other summer at worst, I am too damned stubborn to swing for an air conditioner.  I accept that this is a choice (or lazy non-choice) that I’ve made (or not so much), but it still kinda stinks to be lying awake in bed again with the fan on high acting more like a food processor swirling tepid soup around the room.

I’m too tired to end this post sensibly!  Good night.


One Comment leave one →
  1. July 31, 2011 10:39 pm

    I relate to this post so much it makes me giggle. That is all 🙂

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