June Swoon
Today is June 1st, which is okay for the rest of the world but for me it means that summer is really happening. It's about 80 degrees already at 9:30 AM, which makes me irritable. Heat makes me grumpy. Add to that the muggy living conditions, 24/7, and I'm a mess. All the freaking time.
I went through this last summer, when I flipped out daily. I seriously had about ten tantrums a day until I limited myself to three: one when I woke up, one random mid-day (you just never know), and one when I tried to go to bed. The tantrums happened becuase I was too hot to breathe, and then I'd get all mad and bent out of shape and pretty soon, it'd be even harder to breathe and I'd be even angrier. The whole thing was a total debacle, but for some reason, getting mad about it made me feel slightly better. (Don't you hate when you get mad about something, and someone's like, "Don't get mad about it, what good does that do?" Listen, pal, I like being mad sometimes because it reminds me that even though every other moron around me seems to think that this is a reasonable situation, it most certainly is NOT. I like that reminder.)
Anyway, I'm hoping not to go insane this summer. I did some research and found out that 17 out of 31 days last July were over 95 degrees, which is absolutely ridiculous and unacceptable. I won't put up with that this year, and I'm hoping that whatever I did to deserve that fate last year, well, that I didn't do anything remotely like that again. Last August, I told someone that because of all the bitching and moaning I did about the heat, I wouldn't complain a bit about the cold. And can I tell you something? I didn't complain ONCE about the cold. And goddamn, it was cold this winter at times, but every single time I was about to think, "Oh my god, this is awful," I SERIOUSLY thought about how hot I was last summer, and I said a little thank-you for the icy frozen-ness that was setting into my bones. You think I'm kidding, but I relished the cold. RELISHED.
Alas, it's that time of year again when it's no longer chilly. It gets hot and humid and muggy. And it's the combination that really gets everyone, I think. Is there a worse word than muggy? When I hear or read that, my anger level skyrockets, even though I try my very best to control myself and remember that words can't hurt me and that mugginess, while it can ruin a perfectly good hair day, cannot kill me. (I think.) I'm thinking about having a running tally for how many days I go without throwing my shoes or yelling about the heat, starting today, but I'm worried that I'm setting myself up for a dismal failure when I realize that I can't go a single day over 80 degrees without a minor flip out.
I also thought about having a tally for how many days until some asshole asks me, as I bitch about the heat, whether I've invested in a fan. This tally will be identical to the one I have going for how many days until I seriously consider killing someone. Probably not a good idea.
I went through this last summer, when I flipped out daily. I seriously had about ten tantrums a day until I limited myself to three: one when I woke up, one random mid-day (you just never know), and one when I tried to go to bed. The tantrums happened becuase I was too hot to breathe, and then I'd get all mad and bent out of shape and pretty soon, it'd be even harder to breathe and I'd be even angrier. The whole thing was a total debacle, but for some reason, getting mad about it made me feel slightly better. (Don't you hate when you get mad about something, and someone's like, "Don't get mad about it, what good does that do?" Listen, pal, I like being mad sometimes because it reminds me that even though every other moron around me seems to think that this is a reasonable situation, it most certainly is NOT. I like that reminder.)
Anyway, I'm hoping not to go insane this summer. I did some research and found out that 17 out of 31 days last July were over 95 degrees, which is absolutely ridiculous and unacceptable. I won't put up with that this year, and I'm hoping that whatever I did to deserve that fate last year, well, that I didn't do anything remotely like that again. Last August, I told someone that because of all the bitching and moaning I did about the heat, I wouldn't complain a bit about the cold. And can I tell you something? I didn't complain ONCE about the cold. And goddamn, it was cold this winter at times, but every single time I was about to think, "Oh my god, this is awful," I SERIOUSLY thought about how hot I was last summer, and I said a little thank-you for the icy frozen-ness that was setting into my bones. You think I'm kidding, but I relished the cold. RELISHED.
Alas, it's that time of year again when it's no longer chilly. It gets hot and humid and muggy. And it's the combination that really gets everyone, I think. Is there a worse word than muggy? When I hear or read that, my anger level skyrockets, even though I try my very best to control myself and remember that words can't hurt me and that mugginess, while it can ruin a perfectly good hair day, cannot kill me. (I think.) I'm thinking about having a running tally for how many days I go without throwing my shoes or yelling about the heat, starting today, but I'm worried that I'm setting myself up for a dismal failure when I realize that I can't go a single day over 80 degrees without a minor flip out.
I also thought about having a tally for how many days until some asshole asks me, as I bitch about the heat, whether I've invested in a fan. This tally will be identical to the one I have going for how many days until I seriously consider killing someone. Probably not a good idea.
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