It's been hot this week, genuinely hot. My plants droop unless I water morning and evening. The dog has taken to lying on the linoleum floor instead of the carpet. The sky is a deep, cloudless blue. The hills across the Bay are invisible, lost in a yellowish haze of heat and trapped smog. Yet I can't find it in me to complain. Every time I open my mouth to bitch about how uncomfortable I am I think, "Yeah, but Nashville was hotter than this, and twice as humid for months at a time. You don't really call this hot, do you, wussy?" and I just shut my mouth again. Actually, I've been pretending I've paid a lot of money for an expensive vacation. I've got the heat, the palm trees, the pretty blue water (sans beach, but oh well), and when I get home after work I have a tall, cool drink. If it had fruit and a paper umbrella in it I'd think I was in Hawaii, and I wouldn't mind being a little warm. This isn't so bad. Imagine what it must be like right now in the desert.
Speaking of which, the boys went out to the Mojave phone booth today, so I tried to call 'em. Couldn't get through. Dang thing was busy. I hope that was because they were getting dozens of calls from fans and not because it's busted again.
John is in Chicago attending a beach volleyball tournament. I don't mind too much, as I completely understand the lure of hanging out by the lake watching good-looking, athletic people in tiny swimsuits play sports, but I'm a weensy bit jealous. Alas, I'm saving my vacation days for a trip to Wisconsin (I know, you envy my glamorous, exotic lifestyle), and a visit to New York in October. That'll use up all my regular vacation plus my sick leave. John, on the other hand, gets twice as much vacation as I do, plus he gets to carry over all his sick leave each year, so he has oodles of time to go do things like watch beach volleyball halfway across the country. Come to think of it, he gets paid more than twice what I do. I guess getting a PhD. is worth something after all. He mostly takes it for granted. Although one time he did send his mother a Mother's Day card which he signed, "Love John, PhD."
The cats don't seem to be bothered by the heat, or the lack of one parent. They have an infinite capacity to chill out. I'm going to go do the same. I wonder if we have any paper umbrellas in the house?
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