A Day, er, Night in the Life

Wednesday, September 8, 2010
8:46 pm  Hmmm...

I'm at a loss for words... so I'm going to tell you about my day.  I'm making a concerted effort to start writing again, but at the end of a long, stressful day at work it's pretty much the last thing in the world I feel like doing.  That and going to the gym.  And I'm already not going to the gym, so I feel like I should accomplish something today... even if my current mental state (tired, cranky) is not one that fosters creativity.

You sure you want to keep reading?

Okay, so today I woke up to the chimes of my cell phone alarm clock at 6:30, drenched in sweat.  I was drenched in sweat because I had decided to go the night without using my air conditioner.  Labor Day has passed, my electricity bills have been rather high, and it was supposed to drop down to around 78 degrees...Who needs an air conditioner when all I need to do is crack a window? I thought to myself.

I do.  Me.  This girl needs an air conditioner.

Anyone who has been to my apartment (all 5 of you) will tell you that my apartment is always a good fifteen degrees warmer than it is outside.  The reason behind this isn't clear, but it's GREAT in the winter -- always toasty warm.  It becomes more of an issue in the summer.  And it became more of an issue last night as I lay in bed, willing the cool 78 degree breeze from outside to rush through my open window and over me...

But alas, nothing.

I was determined, though.  In the middle of the night, somehow, through my heat-induced delirium I remembered...I had a fan somewhere!  That would do the trick!  Sweating and swearing I stumbled out of bed and fumbled around in the darkness until I found it.  That sweet black Honeywell was too good to be true!

Indeed.

I plugged it in, angled it toward me, and fell onto my bed, ready for sleep.  But fans just push around air.  And if there's only hot air, they just push around hot air.  That's just good science.  And, in addition to not helping, all that hot air moving was blowing my hair around until it got stuck in the sweat dripping down my face and neck.  Lovely.

So, now it's early, early morning and in-between falling in and out of consciousness (I'm not sure if I slept or got dehydrated and passed out) I tie my hair on top of my head and try to sleep that way.  But then I've got all these wispys that are flying around my head and getting stuck in my sweat and then breaking loose and getting stuck again, so yet again I'm stumbling around my room, now blindly jabbing bobby pins into my head. Eventually I give up and wrap a blanket around my head like a turban.  I'll give you a moment to ponder that visual.

And I did all of this until 6:30 this morning when my cell phone alarm clock began to chime and I thought to myself, Why, God? Why?

And, instead of the usual silence, a voice (and again, this may have been a symptom of the delirium), laughed and said, Dude, you did that to yourself.

And as I sit here, in my room with my air conditioning on, it occurs to me that last night probably says a lot about me.

I am reminded of a saying:

Why do I keep hitting myself with a hammer?

Because it feels so good when I stop.

Love,
Tara