weather or not
I'm going to complain about the weather. I know, there's nothing I can do about it. But I can complain because complaining makes me feel a little better. And I do not want to hear from people saying "Oh, it's so much worse here, you don't know about crappy weather." This is MY complaint department, it's my turn in line and I'm going to take my time without listening to you interrupt my bitching about something I have no control over.
So it's hot. Ok, I can stand the heat. I have A/C in my house, in my car and at work. But the humidity. Oy. I can't take it. It's been like living in the middle of a tropical depression for a week now. You walk outside in the morning and you're immediately wearing a layer of swamp. You breathe in and your lungs fill with a murky mist that threatens to choke the life right out of you. Your clothes are damp. Everything is hot to the touch. The plants are wilting. No, they're dying. Wilting takes too much work. They just want to die. And bad enough that it's 96 degrees, but the suffocation index makes it feel like 106. You can't think, you can't function, you don't want to do anything but sit in the house, watch Christmas movies and pretend it's December.
Rain? We got that. Like seven inches of it in one hour. I could have swam home from work today. Had to stop twice because I couldn't see where I was going. And it can't just be rain, nope. We have cloud to ground lightning; bright, sparkly and damn scary. We've got thunderheads that could make the deaf go deaf all over again. And then the sun comes out. Everything dries up. Still hot, still sticky, but I haven't seen the sun in fucking days and I'm feeling glorious. I go to the dentist - have some painful work done that is going to wreak havoc on my sleep tonight - come out an hour later and the sky is like that suckass Vin Diesel movie. Pitch Black, that's it. I think I even see a monster cloud that looks like Vin. I try to make it home before the downpour starts again but everyone is driving like an asshole so I'm still a mile from my door/dock when the gods turn on the faucets full blast. These drops are HUGE. I have never seen raindrops that big. It's like Paul Bunyan is pissing on my car. Finally, I turn down my street/canal and I think yea, this would be a good time to be amphibious. But Aquaman, I'm not. I finally pull into my driveway, slosh across the front lawn, get in the house just in time to avoid the crack of lighting that I'm pretty sure landed two feet behind me. I think my hair frizzed. Or that could be the humidity. Oh look. It's that sun thing again.