I am hot.
Not in a supermodel sort of way.
I am hot in a fry an egg on my face sort of way.
Yes, of course our air conditioner breaks on the hottest weekend. Of course.
Here is what I now know about heat. Heat makes you do stupid things.
I was so hot I went grocery shopping for 2.5 hours. I hung out in the meat section just to be cool.
Ahhhh, the relief a large rack of frozen ribs can bring a women who is nearing heat stroke hotness. Yes, I got some strange looks while clutching the frozen rack of ribs to my breast, but screw 'em. It is H.O.T., people!
I also got similar "What the heck is wrong with that lady" glances in the dairy section when I nearly crawled into the refrigerator unit with the milk cartons. Fortunately, no one was around when I walked the length of the frozen food section with a package of frozen peas balanced on the back of my neck.
Don't judge me when I am hot and doing everything in my power not to return to my own home.
Upon arriving home, my husband proudly announced it was only 88 degrees inside our house. I believe I responded with words that would be bleeped out if this blog were televised.
Did I mention I'm hot?
When I'm hot, people are really annoying. Especially children who are seemingly oblivious to the heat. They actually want to do things. They want and expect me to do things that require moving. Don't they know how hot it is? Moving only makes it worse. Moving it bad.
The only cure for heat is to sit nearly naked in cold water while drinking plenty of fluids. And by "fluids" I mean alcohol. Duh. I'm fairly certain my sweat glands are on overdrive even while submerged in cold water.
The only plus I see in any of this is I am fairly certain I've lost a few pounds.
Sure, it's 2-3 pounds of sweat, but I'll take it. Yes, I'll take it.
Now I've got to go. I am headed back to the grocery store to spend some quality time with that rack of ribs.