I am sitting perfectly still outside at midnight, and I'm sweating like crazy. That's because, I shit you not, the heat index is 96 degrees right now. Midnight! The sun set three and a half hours ago! I know it is boring and rude to complain about the heat, and I know I live in Texas, voluntarily. Gladly, even. But seriously, fuck me. Fuck us all.
I checked out the Planet Earth series from the library this week, and tonight we got to the ice episode. We watched it like porn, moaning bug-eyed on the couch as penguins shivered together and polar bears slumped with hunger on the cold, cold rocks.
Yesterday I booked a ticket to visit Vickie and her family in Rochester, New York, in two weeks, where it was in the 70s today. "Oh! Well! You have a real good time there," Eric said with a trace of uncharacteristic bitterness when I told him what the temperature there was this afternoon. I think I will refrain from drawing the parallel to the female emperor penguins, who have enough sense to spend the winter on the coast loading up on fish while the males huddle miserably inland through blizzard after blizzard with their eggs.