It's a cruel, cruel summer...

I made the mistake of leaving something in my car today – a check that needed cashing, to be exact. I realized my error at approximately 1 p.m. in the afternoon. I debated blowing it off until the next day, but I could use the cash to buy stuff for dinner, so I grabbed my purse and headed out the door.

My car is parked around 3 blocks away from my office. It’s always a sucky walk – up hill both ways at one point or another. But today it was something all together different. Those 3 blocks were something akin to crossing the sahara in a black work blouse.

By the time I reached my car I was sweating. On the way from the car to the bank, I began to feel funky – it was exhausting to say the least and my gait slowly began to resemble that of a drunken zombie.

I got to the air conditioned splendor of the bank lobby only to wait my turn while dime-sized droplets of perspiration roll down my back and chest. It was not a comfortable bank transaction. I don’t like being the sweaty fat gal.

The walk from the bank back to my office was a short one, and upon collapsing at my desk I fanned myself profusely with a legal pad. I looked at the weather channel online to see that the heat index was 105 degrees.

WTF. This is central Virginia, not the equator. Isn’t this why I moved from Florida back in 1999?

The sweltering heat made me think back to when I was a kid. Our house was old and had no central air. In the real dog days of a Northern NJ summer, my parents would set up two air conditioners; one in the living room and one in their bedroom. The living room had no door, so in order to keep it cool, mom would tack up bedsheets to seal off the family room/living room combo. So, you would walk into a steam bath of a house, and draw the curtain back and “aaaaaaaaahhhhh.” Your body was assaulted by a wave of cool, damp wonderfulness. Lay on the linoleum floor and it was like you were in a meat locker within minutes. Of course trying to sleep was near to impossible so we either slept on the floor in mom and dads room, or most likely, camped out on the couch in the living room.

Right now I am blissfully thankful for my central air in my tiny house. I am even more thankful that it is hubby who is going to cook our dinner on the grill. Let him sweat for a change.