Lately it’s been in the upper 90’s in LA. I know I know, upper 90’s does not sound that bad. Heck, people in Arizona regularly endure temperatures into the 100’s. But 90’s in LA means about 1000 degrees in our apartment. I’m really not typically one to complain about the heat. Since as early as I can remember, being cold has been my least favorite thing, so being hot was something I’ve always been careful not to take for granted. But lately I’m finding myself desperately wishing to be cold.
We sort of pride ourselves on living in an old apartment with no AC. But this month, I feel like doing all I can to avoid spending time in our own place. “ANYWHERE with AC,” I think each day as the sun starts it’s trek toward its hottest place in the sky, “Must… get… somewhere with AC.”
The major problem is that I keep finding myself tired, drained, unmotivated, unable to focus, generally in a bad mood… and all these things usually even after a good full night’s sleep. I think it’s time to face the facts and blame it on the heat.
Sure, the local fires blowing ash into our apartment each day may have something to do with it. It can’t be teribbly healthy for your living room to smell like a bonfire all the time.
I guess the reason I’m telling you all this is because I’ve been home by myself for about six hours this evening and the only productive thing I’ve managed to do has been taking a cold shower (and let’s be real: how productive was that really? because I’m already sweating again). What was I to do next but throw up my arms in defeat and blog, hoping that by writing about the heat taking over my life, I would kick it in the face and get my night back.