I Am One Hot Momma!

I am hot.  Yep, I said it.  Hot.  H-O-T.  HOT!!!  Unfortunately, I don’t mean the kind of hot that makes men stop in their tracks or women hate me.  I mean hot.  As in temperature.  As in grumpy, sweaty, miserable hot.

If a movie was to be made about the condition of my boobs right now, it would be called, “A River Runs Through It.”  I have sweat on my brow, sweat on my upper lip, sweat running down my front and down the back of my pants.  I feel icky and sticky. Ugh!!

I used to love Summer.  Hours spent in the sun; the ability to work in the yard no matter what time of day; leaving the A/C off until the end of June.  Now I need the A/C year-round, I don’t venture outside after 10:00 a.m. and it cannot be cold enough in the house.

Such are the trials of a middle-aged woman in the South.  My hair has gone from sleek and smooth to white-girl afro at the first sign of humidity.  I went from shiny, oily skin to dry, cracked, itchy skin.  All the things I loved about the heat of Summer in my youth have turned into the banes of my old, irritable self.

So here I sit, in the middle of June, with the long Summer stretched out in front of me, thinking of ways to keep cool when the heat really hits.  At which time you will not want to be within 300 miles of me. 

Check back with me in October.  At that time, I’ll be starting my complaining about the cold weather.  You’re welcome, America.