Blister in the Sun

Go ahead you crisp autumntime people - you with your leaves rustling and little cups of cider. Mock me. Remind me how cruel I was when you were buried under foot after foot of snow... I just don't care. My spirit has been broken. I know - I chose to live here - well bite me.

It's a cruel joke, this heat. It's currently 114º outside - again. The only creatures that were meant to live in this climate are lizards and cockroaches. And we humans here in the desert begin to resemble both of them towards the end of the summer, with our leathery skin and all the scurrying under rocks and avoiding daylight.

Why am I complaining? Because I have to go outside to smoke now. Not a bad thing really - in a NORMAL climate, but here it's brutal. And believe me, it's helping me quit.

Why do I have to go outside? Because the missus is allergic (you have to say that with your face all scrunched up). Say it with me she's allergic... Uh huh. Four trips to the allergist and they finally have it figured out... the poor woman is allergic to THE PLANET. That's easy to manage isn't it? They have shots for the planet don't they? Well, in the meantime, while she works on building her planetary immunity, I have to do my smoking outside. Which brings me back to how fucking miserable it is out there.

We're due for a reprieve later this week when it might dip back into the brisk 90's (oooh - sweater weather brrrr!). But today, I'm ready to crack. I can't take it anymore. It happens every year at the end of the summer - I reach my breaking point and I want to just sit down and cry. Dear lord, why hast thou forsaken us?

The missus is headed up to Seattle this weekend. Yeah up there - where the normal people live and they have things like rain and trees with leaves and you can wear pants with legs. Socks! They wear socks up there! Can you believe it?!? She's packing cashmere for shits sake. Me? Alas, work requires me to remain here on the surface of the sun with the lizards and roaches. Frickin' lizards...