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Scirroco
Yesterday it was ninety-seven degrees. With the forty percent humidity, it was a hundred and three.
I came up here to avoid weather like this. When you travel to Washington (which, outside of Lousisiana, is the Nation's Humidity Capitol) and then return to Boston and it's actually hotter than DC, something is wrong.
Fortunately, yesterday there was wind, as there almost always is. A hot, hot breeze. I don't mind that. Any air movement is okay, regardless of temperature. It's when the air stops moving that I get unhappy.
Yesterday evening the air didn't seem to move at all in the house, even with fans. The only decent room to be in was the air-conditioned one.
The cat has figured out the air conditioner. He knows it is the thing that makes the bed cool on top. He will stand underneath it and mew, hoping I'll come along and turn it on. Usually I do - I can sympathize with the cat, this is not the proper weather for body hair.
I bought two computer games and a slew of cheap earrings with stainless steel posts yesterday at Ye Mall. I'm sticking with cheap earrings for now, and the death of the cabochon shows me that this is a wise move. At least two of the pairs I bought yesterday will be a loss. No big deal.
Nonelvis was talking to her co-worker Jag about me, about my earrings. Jag suggested hoops, and Nonelvis relayed my standard response - "Hoops? Ick. I don't like hoops. I want danglies" - and Jag said, "There's a little girl trapped in that big body!" Or something like that ... Nonelvis forgets in the retelling.
My response was, well, didn't she already know that about me?
I couldn't get one of the computer games to work, try though I might. Today I may pound on it some more - I got new information.
And the other computer game turned out to be impossible to control well - racing game, I don't usually play those - and not very exciting either.
I dislike having to return games, but in retrospect, I'm glad I couldn't play them last night. I didn't write any of the novel on Sunday - my first missed night in over a week - and felt really guilty about it.
Last night I wrote a nice long stretch and felt better. If I'd spent the night playing computer games, I'd have felt rotten.
So there's the silver lining.
© Columbine
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