I do not like it hot. I do not like it cold. I am getting old, set in my ways, and beginning not to like things that are too hot and too cold. When I was a kid I could jump in the northern Pacific and the only thing that would annoy me was the time it took for my body to go numb so I could enjoy frolicking in the 50 degree water. And heat? Heat was to be much anticipated. 100 degree days were a reason to play with the hose, waste precious ground water, and jump in the neighbors green swimming pool. In January I could go up to the mountain and try to climb it. Cold and windy? Hey all the more adventurous!
Now I find myself cursing the wind, the cold, the heat. Not in a easy going manner either. But in an earnest way one might curse a villain like Hitler, of Bush. It is a curmudgeonly dislike for the discomfort of extremes. A lack of desire to accommodate such changes. Oh I could be gracious and accommodating. But in an angry spiteful, and quite useless, way I toss up my nose at any such niceties.
It is hot now. 9:30pm at night and it is hot. It should not be hot. I should be relaxing but no. The heat has decided that it will stay the night. Like a drunken house guest that you cannot reason with. It sulks, ruining the night. If I go to the bathroom it is there waiting for me. In bed it will not move over, it hogs the whole thing. I open the window to let in some cool night air only to find my ugly house guest has invited more uncivilized friends over to have a party.
I spend $21.00 to get me and my kid into see a movie, not because I am wealthy really want to watch a movie, just to get a big cold drink (a $5.00 drink!!!) and sit in a cold room for two hours. Last night we wandered around shopping mall until it closed. In the morning I longed for Sheri's, yes Sheris resturant, only for its overly active airconditioning system.
So here I sit at 9:30 pm with my loathsome sticky house guest and all I can do is write this blog that few people, if any, will ever read.