Too Hot in the Hot Tub

Its too hot to blog. Its too hot to do anything but bitch and moan, and sweat and be crabby, and drink cold water. I cannot take this heat. I hate it. I've decided that, after we get a new sofa, we will saving for central air conditioning. People where I live don't generally have air conditioning because it doesn't get that hot, that often, and the nights are cool. Not cool enough for me, and I think that, even if I only use it five afternoons a year, it will be worth every penny.

Rob makes a point that our house isn't insulated, and our windows are old an inefficient and that we should fix those things before thinking about an air conditioner, but I think that's bullshit. Having an uninsulated inefficient house doesn't stop us from heating our house in the winter, right?

By the end of these hot days, I want to cry, and scream, and drink margaritas. I don't want to put laundry away, or make a meal, or be a hospitable person in any way.

My dad is coming over for dinner tonight, and I haven't done a thing. I'm going to make coleslaw, and I just can't find the motivation I need to go into the kitchen and do it. I think I'll play computer solitaire on the couch, in front of the fan, and just count the minutes until it cools down. And, no matter what the weather report says, its always warmer than they say its going to me. Someone just kill me.