| Fried |
[Jun. 27th, 2016|11:44 pm]
rejectomorph
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The heat has left me as energetic as a zombie today. That's an old fashioned, shambling zombie, not one of the modern, apocryphal zombies that zips around like the Roadrunner. I've got nothing done all day. When I finally opened the windows shortly before dusk, when the outdoor temperature had equalized with the indoor temperature (at 82 degrees. shockingly enough) the guy next door decided to start mowing his lawn. I didn't feel like going around and closing all the windows I had just opened, so I inhaled gasoline fumes for half an hour. The slight hint of freshly cut grass that accompanied the pollution did not compensate for it.
Earlier I had had to boot up the computer twice, because the first time it was unable to find its hard drive. This machine is surely on its last legs— or whatever computers have that are the equivalent of legs. If I suddenly vanish from the Internets, it will more likely be the sudden death of the computer than my own sudden death— unless, of course, the heat kills me. But the worst heat is supposed to be tomorrow, and then it will taper off a bit to the area's normal summer torridity. That I can probably survive. The computer, I don't know.
I should probably eat something. While I do sense a vague hunger, it's more the feeling that my blood sugar has crashed that convinces me I should try to find some food. It will have to be something that doesn't require any fire whatsoever. I refuse to have additional heat in the house. Maybe I'll just eat ice cream. Or a cube of butter, since I want a beer and beer goes very poorly with ice cream.
Whatever, My brain is fried. |
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