Today I am grateful for cold water! Usually I prefer water that is room temperature because I tend to drink it fast and don’t want to get ice-brain. But lately, I can’t seem to get enough really, really cold water.
The temperatures and humidity these last few days make me feel I’m back living in Jakarta, Indonesia. The equator is not for me. And I’m way worse now. When you live in those temperatures full time, you acclimate. . .a little. . .well other people acclimate. . .some among us just bitch. Me! I hate the heat and humidity. I try to live a good life so I don’t have to burn in Hell and to me that’s what the last few days were like. Hell! Spoiled? Sure. Shoot me. And if I’m stuck outside in that blistering heat and humidity, make it snappy. I hate the heat. Put me out of my misery. I don’t care. I still hate the heat! Are we clear on that?
We were in Philly last night (more on that another time) and we only had to walk a few blocks to get from the car, to the restaurant, to the theater, to the car and I was a dishrag! A sweaty, skanky, musty dishrag. I would have paid a stranger to douse me with the ALS ice bucket challenge. My sainted husband saved me in the theater by providing a bottle of icy cold water. I drank a little, then slapped that sucker to my jugular trying to find some relief. A man walked past and said, “Oh come on, it’s not that hot!” He’s dead now. “. . .I tell ya. . .You woulda killed him, too. . .He had it coming.” Oh wait, that’s a different musical. Asshole! So far there is no musical featuring assholes, but I could sure write one.
It was almost as if everyone had turned the air conditioning off for the season. Not good. For me. The restaurant was too hot, the sidewalk was brutal, the theater was cool at first, then got hotter and hotter. The car garage, two levels underground, was a pizza oven. The car was a slow cooker on high. I was a bitch. Not necessarily in that order.
You know how when you’re going to have a really, really dangerously hot spell and the size-zero weatherperson who runs 450 miles a day and doesn’t pitch a sweat tells everyone to be sure their elderly neighbors and family members have enough cold water and stay in air conditioning. They are talking about me! When did that happen? I just can’t take it at all anymore.
Even with the air in the car on full blast all the way home, to the chagrin of the same husband, who wondered if was going for meat locker temperatures, I was miserable. I stumbled in the door and within ten seconds of getting home grabbed a cold water, a Gatorade and hit a cool shower, steam coming off of me and spilling over like pasta boiling on the burner.
So today I’m really, really grateful for cold water. Today I will be drinking gallons of the stuff. I’ll call you in the middle of the night when I’m on my 30th trip to the bathroom, which is another story altogether!