Hating Heat

There aren’t enough fervently incensed words for me to express my intense hate for heat!

I was in Chicago for a marketing network meeting yesterday, and it was 95 degrees outside! Thankfully, I spent most of the day comfortably cool in the Chicago Historical Museum (interestingly enough…across the street from Moody church). However, in the hour (total) I spent outside eating lunch and walking to and from the car, my make-up melted off my face (literally) and my hair was as limp as Wal-Mart’s lettuce leaves.

To and from Chicago, I was spoiled by the marvelous dual temperature control in my boss’ car! I had a 69 degree ride down there, and she kept asking, “Aren’t you cold?”

As if.

Then I got home where I sulked around our sweltering house making obscure references to divorce, until my husband finally agreed to turn on the AC. Poor guy. Even then, I said it wasn’t cool enough, and he said, “It feels cold to me.” I replied, “Then you and I have different definitions of cold!” So, he cranked it down a little more.

I do get my way – said the only child.

This morning I discovered the AC in my car was broken. Well, at least until I experimentally rolled down my window and realized the morning cool was still in the air. So, I rode to work with all four windows down – hair style be ruined!

Tonight, it’s supposed to get up to 90 again!

AAAARRRRGGGGHHHHHH! I HATE this weather. Hate it. Hate it. Really, really hate it!

Oh, fall – where are you?!