It's Hot

It's warm outside. Really warm. I actually feel like I'm stepping into an oven when I step outside-having never actually stepped into an actual oven may not make me qualified to make such a statement but it's the one I'm going with. Other comparable feelings? Blowing yourself in the face with the blow dryer on high heat and high air. Sleeping in your Grandparents home, whom are 80 years old, in October-right around the time of frost-they think it's freezing, you think it's refreshing. Now there's a statement I'm qualified to make-been there done that.

I know most people in the country are whining about the heat. I know most people probably still enjoy it over the snow. But I'm tired. I'm tired of having grit in my teeth because of the dust blowing, I'm tired of not being able to wear my bangs down because they trap the heat, make me sweat, and then do this absolutely adorable thing of wigging out in all the wrong places. I'm tired of needing a shower after I take out the trash. I'm tired of feeling like a sweat factory. What a lovely and lady-like illustration.

I long to open my windows up again and feel the cool breeze blow in, ahh relief. I need to hear the crickets chirping and then the birds singing in the morning. Instead, all I hear is the buzz of fans and the window air conditioner as it tries to keep up with our 2nd story. By 9am I really don't even want to be on this story-because you guessed it-it's already too hot. The air is getting stale. I'm ready for a break.

Ok, I'm going to go get an ice cube now-if there is any left in the county.

Overly dramatic? What? Me? Never. 

But seriously it's hot.


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