Thursday, July 28, 2005

The Big Chill

The heatwave finally broke last night. And I mean this sincerely: Thank God.

The heat was out of control. It was as if someone turned earth's thermostat on the setting for Hell. I was stirring a simmering pot the other day, and realized that the heat on my hand felt cooler than the heat I'd felt outside a few minutes before. People were starting to talk to their air conditioners: please don't break. Please, please, don't break. You want October off? A nice weekend in the mountains with the wife and kids? Whatever I need to do, you've got it - just please, please don't break.

Yesterday, my husband and I decided to go to BJs and catch up on some shopping. Correction: he decided to go to BJs and I was already in the car, a captive. It didn't seem like a good idea to me: buying milk and fish and eggs and transporting them home in a car which took twenty minutes to cool down to eighty degrees, but sometimes you have to let a man be a man and do his warehouse grocery shopping.

The process of driving in the car, air conditioning system blowing seventy-five degree wind in my face, and then walking from the car into the store in the volcanic heat completely wiped me out. I arrived in the store unable to focus and a little unsure of what we'd exactly planned to buy. I kept sitting down. At one point, I sat down on a park-like bench and completely felt like I was two seconds away from declaring that life was like a box of chocolates, and telling strangers that I knew a girl who grew up to be an extra on New Jack City. I was done.

Amazingly, we continued to run errands after dropping the groceries off at home. We went into Sears, which was only slightly warmer than the inside of an ice cube but felt like heaven. When we got ready to leave Sears, it was raining. Noah loading animals two by two onto the ark raining. The temperature had plunged fifteen degrees.

Normally, a fifteen degree temperature drop within a half hour would cause concern - what is this, a bad movie about the ice age? Instead, the weatherman on the radio was pretty much singing. "It's raining! Look,everybody!" People were grinning - about torrent rain. I swear I saw a toddler dancing a jig.

We all woke up to a balmy seventy-two degree morning, and weathermen promising we'd have this weather for the next five days. I don't know about you, but I'm going to milk these five days like a Midwest farmer's daughter. Don't bother calling us at home - we'll be outside.

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