Why is it so damn hot?

The neighborhood late-morning sounds finally wake me.  It’s the first Saturday of Summer – and already 110 degrees outside.  My bedroom is filled with white noise, reminding me to be thankful for the portable floor fan that has been keeping the heat at bay – blowing cool air across me throughout the night.  I pull open my bedroom door to see my cat stretched out long, nose to tail, on the cool, wood floor.  His head slightly rises as he lets out a murmured meow asking me, “why is it so damn hot?”  I lightly scratch his head and feel guilt for our lack of air conditioning. 

Sitting at the kitchen table, coffee cup between my hands, I contemplate my day.  I could sit here all day –  doors, windows, drapes and blinds pulled shut from the heat, but I know that by 5 or 6 ‘o’clock the setting sun will be pushing hard against the back windows, turning my little house into an oven.  I could drive to the beach, with the thousands of others who have similar thoughts, and position my beach chair a foot or so from the family of twelve. This isn’t really getting away from the heat, but embracing it, honoring it, using it in my favor (if I am properly lubricated with sunscreen).  This idea seems like too much work – find my bikini, towel, chair and sunhat, pack lunch, iPod, sunscreen and beach read, and I can’t forget to shave my legs. The heat has stolen my energy for this.  Still undecided, I push my chair back and make my way to the bathroom for a long, cool shower.

 

 

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