I'm not counting on the forecasts for the next several days, either. For example, tomorrow night is predicted to have a low below seventy for the first time in about a week, but I'll be very surprised if it does. It is clear that some malevolent force has decided that the suffering must not end. It remains hot and humid, and will most likely continue so for the remainder of humanity's stay on this planet.
I suspect that I have no more than a week before my stewed brain shuts down permanently, so I won't have to see the long decline as the temperate forest is devoured by invading subtropical insects and the population flees to more moderate climes. Being brain-dead, I'll most likely be left behind to be devoured by lions, or perhaps merely by my feral cats. It isn't how I pictured my end, but there's nothing to be done about it now.
One departure from recent trends has been that today I slept a total of about ten hours. It left little time for anything else, given how slowly I move when it's hot, but I probably wouldn't have gotten much done even had I been awake the whole time. I certainly haven't gotten much done on all those recent days when I slept only four or five hours. But knowing that I'll be brain-dead in a week is curiously liberating. I find that I don't care that the carpet goes unvacuumed and the windows unwashed. I intend to enjoy myself to the greatest extent possible in the few days of consciousness remaining to me. Turns out that means drinking lots of unsweetened iced tea with half-and-half in it, and watching television.
And, by the way, my thanks to Comedy Central. It turns out that watching a marathon of Drunk Historyis an excellent way to spend a torrid Independence Day. I was able to vicariously enjoy the pleasures of drunkenness without further dehydrating myself with an excess of alcohol.