Heat Wave

It's too hot. I hate hot weather. I hate, hate, hate, hate it, unless there is readily accessible air conditioning. I grew up in hot, humid New Jersey summers, but we had central air conditioning which I think literally saved my life. We have no air conditioning here because this is the Bay Area and we have, allegedly, "natural air conditioning," but not often enough now, thanks to global warming or climate changes or whatever. I can't bear it.

I am now on the third lowest, and coolest floor of my house and it is still unbearably hot. (of course, I do have a very warm laptop on my lap) I am considering sleeping in the floorless "dirt room" under the house; my daughter just said it felt cool in there. It's either that or in the car with the AC running all night.

An hour ago, I was emerging from the oasis of the air-conditioned movie theater (Devil Wears Prada; I enjoyed it) and was going to head toward the bliss of an air-conditioned hotel. I could not take the idea of coming back here but they assured me it was "not so bad." I watched in dread as the temperature gauge on my car kept climbing up and up as I got closer to home. If it's 84 degrees outside at nearly 11pm in my neighborhood, it means it's closer to 90 inside the house. Like I said, I can't take it. A friend of mine says "heat is my Kryptonite" and I feel the same way. I'm melllllllting. I'm dyyyying. I cannot bear the feel of sweat on my skin unless I have deliberately put it there by working out and working out HARD. Nothing makes me angrier and more desperate feeling than sweating by just, um, sitting around and breathing. I don't know if it's perimenopause or I'm just a heat wimp, but I. Cannot. Stand. It.

I might just have to go back into the car and sleep there all night. If I sleep in the driveway with the motor running, I can't get carbon monoxide poisoning, can I? No, I'll probably just run out of gas.