It's The Heat

I'm not talking about the Toni Braxton masterpiece, either. I'm talking about torturous climate.

Yesterday I attacked my apartment and scrubbed the joint from top to bottom. And by "scrubbed," I mean, down on my hands and knees and attacking that shit like Cinderella trying to get shit done before the Ball.

I don't know where I found the energy. There must have been some crack in that iced coffee Sara and I bought yesterday. I just figured, if I'm going to sweat my ass off in my apartment, I should at least be active. So, despite my hangover and lack of sleep, I was able to complete the task at hand.

The mysterious part is the fact that I was unable to fall asleep until about 2 a.m. I'd to WTF? that, but it's Monday. A little too early.

I completely exhausted myself. The heat alone is exhausting. How is it possible I was unable to sleep? It's the HEAT.

It's going to be 92 today. I live in an old building. What happens is that the bricks warm up in the sun. The building pretty much gets direct sunlight all day until the sun goes down...no tall Manhattan skyscrapers to expedite the onset of darkness. When the sun DOES go down, the bricks are still hot, and so they're still giving off heat even when it's markedly cooler outside. The floors and walls are warm to the touch. I basically live the life of a brick oven pizza.

Last night, the cat slept in the bathtub. I ALMOST climbed in there with him.

A/C is on my horizon and I keep looking toward it like the light at the end of the tunnel. The only thing is, once I have it installed, what the hell am I going to bitch about?