Riding the heat wave

Is it me, or did it just get ridiculously hot?

Usually I pride myself on my desert heritage where we lived in the 90s for nine months out of the year. I’m rolling my eyes at all the northerners, the ones going on and on about how it’s soooo hot.

But even I have to admit, this last week has me trying on the phrase “Summer Minnesotan.”

After all, there are Winter Texans, right?

The last time I remember this many 100 degree days was when I was pregnant during the Summer of ’98 and we hit a record for the most 100 degree days in a row. Then when I was pregnant over the Summer of ’02, we had the flood that sent water over the spillway at the lake.

We should all be grateful that the Prosapios stopped with #2.

Anyway, given conditions out there, I’ve discovered there are certain things I simply refuse to do when it’s over 100 degrees.

I refuse to bake. This is in a vain hope that by banning all forms of heat we’ll stop the insanity. I like to think of it as my bit to stop localized global warming (which is a contradiction of terms, but hey, it’s hot).

I refuse to go shopping because there is just something about walking across an asphalt parking lot when it’s 104. When your shoes are sticking to the parking lot, it’s a signal there’s nothing in that you need that bad. Except ice.

I refuse to stand outside for more than 30 seconds unless dragged kicking and screaming by dogs who insist that I’m the one who’s all unreasonable about house training.

I refuse to exercise unless it involves cold water or unless it’s 5 am.

I refuse to get up early because it’s already hot anyway. An there is no water within 300 miles that’s still cold.

I refuse to remember my pledge to get one box out of the attic every day and get rid of things because I’m fairly sure I will go up in flames if I even OPEN the attic door.

I refuse to turn on lights because I’m convinced that most of our house is glowing with radiant heat until 2 am.

Let’s hope that the early sightings of El Nino, which would bring rain and coolness, turn out to be true and not just the ravings of weathermen who have run out of “it’s so hot” jokes.

Because otherwise I’m not going to get anything done around here.