The Inmates Run the Asylum

The heat finally broke late this afternoon, which was a good thing because I was sweating like you wouldn't believe just sitting here watching the Cubs game and working on a friendship bracelet.

It was not a sexy sight, kids.

Now maybe I'll get some decent sleep tonight.

Well, decent sleep not affected by the heat. Decent sleep not affected by bizarro dreams just doesn't happen in my world.

I'm supposed to be keeping my feet elevated because they are swollen like woah (probably from the heat; my hands and feet both swell, but this is the worst my feet have ever been), but I can't type in that position with my current set up and I must tell you about this fantastic, cracked out dream that I had.

I was in Hawaii, swimming with Zachary Quinto and Chris O'Donnell, watching them compete in some kind of race that involved having a rope tied around their waists. A shark came up and bit down on Chris O'Donnell's rope and swam off with him and I had to go save him, but when I did and we got out of the water, we were faced with a tidal, which we survived. Then I watched a crime being committed, only it turned out that it was only on TV. Then I realized it was Halloween and I was bummed because someone how I'd forgetten my favortist holiday of the year and missed all of my favorite movies. But then I was happy because LL Cool J was coming back to the day shift and I have him a big ol' kiss on his cheek to let him know how happy I was before going to work on ER, where we couldn't tell the good guys from the bad guys and Tim Curry shot Tamala Jones before someone shot Tim Curry and I ended carrying both of their bodies (by myself because Noah Wiley was no help) through all of these corridors, past a ranting Jon Gosselin, to the front desk, where I dumped them at Jamie Lee Curtis's feet and told her to do something with them. Then she gathered all of us around to give us some kind of pep talk, but I got distracted by a puddle on the floor.

And then I woke up.

Freud would have fallen over.

We're having a heat wave for the weekend. Temps are in the 90's with the heat indicies over 100. And considering last month was the coolest July we've had in the history of keeping track of temperatures, the weatherman are all *FLAILFLAIL* because we're no longer acclimated to the heat and we're all going to start dropping like flies.

Honestly, it wasn't bad today. It was hot, but I wasn't misting my head with ice water and taking two or three cold showers.

At any rate, Carrie and I took some heat precautions. She went out and bought the fixings for shake-ups, lemon and lime, to go with the citrus vodka in the freezer.

Trust me, nothing beats the heat like a redneck cocktail.

I'm updating with no pants on. I'll be honest with you, I couldn't stand to be in my bra and denim shorts a minute longer, I'm that hot and uncomfortable. I'm wearing the closest thing I have to a nightshirt, which on a smaller woman would be a little revealing, but on a woman of my caliber it's questionable. Bending over is an adventure because it's a show for everyone, no matter where you're standing.

Anyway, as I may have mentioned, it was hot today. We've got a heat advisory until Wednesday because the heat indes will be over a hundred. I think the high today on my Weather Bug was 96 with a heat index of 106. That's pretty much what it's going to be like for most of the week.

I took my car to the car wash today. Sure it was really too hot to move, but the way I wash cars, it's like going to the water park. I found it refreshing.

I also took the opportunity to drive around town with my windows down, blasting music not heard on The Square for probably two decades, specifically Escape Club's "Wild, Wild West".

There was significant disappointment, though, when I was pulling into the driveway and "Fat Bottom Girls" by Queen came on. I refused to let my good time end just because I was home. I sat in the driveway, cranked the radio, and sang along.

My neighbors are no longer suprised by my behavior.

It's 90 with a heat index of 99 and typing makes me sweat.

Still haven't turned on the A/C, but even if we did, it wouldn't help me much. We've got two window units and neither pushes enough cold air into the kitchen where the computer is.

I gutted it out, though. Despite heat, sweat, and melty brain, I was determined to make my minimum of 1,000 words on "In the Dark". It took me a couple of hours, but I managed to do it and even surpass it.

And while I was writing, I realized that I had just screwed myself over story-wise. In my attempt to rewrite this story into something worth reading, I wrote myself right out of my original climax, which I had intended to keep. Whoops.

I think I can work it enough to salvage part of it, but I'm not sure I'll like it as well as the original "trapped in the attic" scene.

I've got a little ways to go before I get there, though. I'll just write it out and see what happens.

In the meantime, I'm getting a popsicle and going to melt in my room.