Obviously, I didn’t blog yesterday. I could blame the fact that my husband had the day off and distracted me. I could blame the fact that we ended up going to the zoo and the Cards game went 15 innings. But the truth is that it was just too fucking hot to form a thought, let alone a sentence. Yesterday, it was one hundred and three degrees in Bremerton, WA. Notice I spelled that one out? I thought a temperature like that deserved the extra words.
For those of you who don’t know, the Northwest isn’t known for heat…rain and chilly temps, yes, but not sweltering heat (therefore no a/c, not even in some public buildings!). I have spent the past two years “accepting” (work in progress) the fact it rains all the time (42.9 inches a year) and that I wear sweatshirts daily. So the fucking trade off should be that I don’t have to spend any night with cold washcloths on my face just trying to cool off enough to fall asleep. Needless to say, I am pissed.
The lone highlight of the rising temps is that the heat has quieted my neighbors. No hacking coughs or “deep” advice on the struggles of sobriety have been heard in the past 36 hours. Now that I think of it, should I check on them? They aren't old or my pets....hmmm....
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