There are a variety of activities one can attempt when you find yourself in residence on the surface of the Sun, or the photosphere, as it were. Some are possible, some are not. Below is a list of things, in no particular order, that I failed at today:
1. Grocery Shopping: I drag my poor cat in from her cool(ish), comfortable, shady spot under her favourite bush. She's not happy. As I leave and throw a glance back to the window, she's sitting looking out at me. If those walls could talk. This doesn't bode well for later. I hop in the truck and head to Trader Joe's. I blast the air conditioning and all is well. I get to Trader Joe's and the parking lot is a zoo. People are honking and there are a lot of red, sweaty faces. I think about cutting off a car that's trying to cut me off, but I see it's my "differently-abled" neighbor, so I don't for those two reasons. I finally park and walk inside. Even walking as slowly as I did, she can't catch up. I know this, and only feel a little bad today. The queues - all eight of them - are a mile long. Eff you, Trader Joe's, for being so delectable. This is what I get for being uncharitable. I turn on my heel and head back to the car. Can't be arsed. Homeward bound. It's friggin' hot today.
2. Clean Bathroom: By clean bathroom, I mean wash the floor. Properly. This means not skirting the mop half-heartedly around the bits you can see. It means moving everything out. Kitty litter box, twice-my-height credenza, bin. All the bits and bobs. I take a crack at it. I start putting things in the bath. Feel good about this one. Pushed the credenza and half the crap falls onto the floor. Avalanche. I fling all the shiz in a half-arsed manner into the bath. I'm feeling less sure about this. My bathroom's teeny and it's starting to feel like an oven. I feel like I want to give up 'til later. So I do. I leave everything and promise the air I'll come back when it's cooler. Just a bit later on. It's just too hot.
3. Bike Ride: My bike is one of three that are chained to my porch railing. My bike is the one that's hardest to get to. After standing in the blaring, glaring sun for 20 minutes trying to remember the combination of one of the two locks, I finally crack it. Then I take a break, mentally gearing (no pun intended) for: - I then hack away at the jungle that had grown through the chains and freedom! Two bikes fall on top of me. That hurt. I finally reach my bike - both tires flat. I oil up the chain and brakes - and half wheel, half drag it around the corner to the gas station to pump 'em up. Success. I hop on and and cycle the few feet back. I hop off and bang my ankle against a pedal. That hurt too. I lock it up to the railing again, already on my way to forgetting the combination. It's just too hot.4. Go to the Beach: Just no.
5. Watch Telly: Taking the lazy, slug-like way out, I decide to watch some On-Demand. I plop down on the couch. Horror strikes. Where's the remote? I stretch along the couch to as far as my right arm goes (which, being almost Carnie-Folk short, is really not that far). I stretch along under the cushions. And then repeat with the left. I get a sinking feeling. No telly for me.
6. Pet Lois: I try to entice my cat to sit on the couch beside me. I make a few, lazy, high and low-pitched 'come here' noises. I pat the sofa and say things like "Come on, Lois-Pois" and "Up here, up here." After thinking about it for a few minutes, probably ten, she jumps up. I lay my head back against the cushions and tickle her ears. All okay so far. This sort of thing is often touch and go with her. As I start to pet her noggin and back, and ponder the benefits of this activity, and the correlation of same to the lowering of the blood pressure, she quietly turns her head and sinks the teeth she has left, into my hand. Not enough to hurt, but it's a warning for me to not get too crazy. Who am I, Lenny? This, I know, is also payback for making her come inside earlier. See? If she could talk, she'd say "It's friggin' hot." Oh, and "You suck." That would be the translation. She gives me the hairy eyeball for good measure. Nice.
7. Ceiling Fan Maintenance: After Lois jumps down, I point my eyes heaven-ward and attempt full chagrin. As I'm not religious in the slightest, that being an absolute understatement, I catch sight of the dust on the blades that need cleaning. That's not going to happen, of course. But in this moment, I wonder if the fan is spinning in the right direction. The spinning doesn't seem to be doing much cooling. Is the switch supposed to be up or down? It's Autumn yes, but feels like Hades Summer home, so which is it? This might be something. I reach for my laptop, which is, incidentally, within pipsqueak arm's length, and do a quick search. I am educated! Up for Winter, down for Summer. I have a vague recollection I've read this before. In fact, truth be told, I google this every year. However, I uncover a most excellent way of never having to search for this again. Up for North, down for South. Hurray! I feel so accomplished. I'm still not cleaning the blades today though. And it's too hot to change the direction of the switch right now. But when it's cooler, and I can drag a chair under it so I can reach, I'll absolutely know which way it's supposed to go. You're very welcome.
8. Take a Shower: It's just not happening. See #2.
9. Read a Book: To belabour the point even further, it's just too hot to move. Let's just get this out of the way right now; my bookshelf is too far away. Brainwave. I open up my iBook app., and read the 20 page sample of Russell Brand's "My Booky Wook." I giggle a bit. Well there you go, that was ten minutes of external inactivity, apart from giggling and jiggling; that should count for something. I feel like I might want to read the whole thing, but I like actual books. Booky wooks. I like pages. I like flipping. Real flipping where you can feel a draught. It's too hot to go to Barnes and Noble. Foiled again.
10. Taking the Lazy Over-heated Way Out to 10: This took a lot of energy -
And tomorrow's supposed to be hotter. Wonder if I should call in sick? Wait, we have air conditioning at work. Done.
Post Scriptum: Ooh, here's my remote!
