I'm melting... melting! Oh, what a world!

It is hot. Really hot. Like 90 degrees hot, which I realize is small potatoes for most of the rest of the country, but here in Seattle where no one has A/C because it rarely gets above 75, it is mother-foxtrotting hot as balls.

Case in point: a few nights ago, it was 89 degrees in Avery's bedroom. As I type this, it's a relatively cool but still oven-like 80 degrees. And our bedroom is hotter. Happy sleeping, everyone!

Me... every. single. night.

I look at our furry dog and our furry cat and instantly break out in a sheen of sympathy/panic sweat.

So anyway, naturally, I was bitching about this to Mark. Here's how it went.

Me: Oh. My. God. It is so foxtrotting hot. I can't take it anymore.

Mark: "Oh, come on! We always have a week like this. And it usually comes early in the summer...."

(unless it doesn't, in which case every single Seattle native will tell you that summer in Seattle starts on July 5th and it never gets hot until after that)

"... and then everyone in Seattle bitches about how hot it is ..."

(because yes, goddamn right it is hot)

"... and then everyone says 'it's never going to end! We have to buy an air-conditioner."

Which is precisely what Mark said last week.



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