The Heat

Yes, the heat is getting hot. I sense a narf coming on. The heat is hot. Cold it is not. See Jane run. Who remembers Spot?

Narf.

Well that was quick. So where did you go to school, Canada? Ok, remember Mr. Mugs, then? Fans (yes, they have fans {though I agree with R.R. and the Doctor and other critics, m'ok?}, believe it or not) who love and collect them and for the older generations (long before reading is fundamental), even obsession happened and of course the religion was predomenent. What was sometimes evident was no content. There are so many interesting concepts for books, maybe, after all. Are we digressing much?

Yes, the heat is hot. The humidity from the low pressure storm that passed over the past few days (just the outer bands, nothing like what I would call a storm) is profound as the sun came out and baked the drenched landscape. No air conditioning is going to make for quite a lot of heat and humidity in here this summer. Hot heat. Hot humid heat. I have four fans set up (no ceiling fan), one three incher just for the laptop, one three incher for under the laptop aimed between my legs, one six incher aimed at the center of the bed, and one nine incher aimed at me wherever I might be in the room. It's not smart enough to follow me around, but I can move and adjust it. I may end up getting one of those two foot standing fans before long depending on how hot it gets in this space.

So what else is new?

The briefer blog has been sorely neglected this week, in case it matters. The title says it all, in case you didn't notice. In case it matters, too. Sometimes I am happy and positive and independent and feeling like well I'll just leave these words here for anyone to read in case it matters to someone someday that I existed and some days I am in case it matters, like anyone cares and the past week has bounced from one extreme to the other. I mean, in case my moods and well-being matters, aye?

Who has the time? Who cares? And all that jazz. But since we asked, for instance, anyone who clicked on all of the links in the first paragraphs has the time. Anyone who actually read something worth sharing in each of the links in the first paragraphs cares. Anyone actually sharing something meaningful about the content of the links in the first paragraphs should apply for sainthood. That was a semi-joke. Actually, I would love someone who did the third step of sharing to call and discuss whatever they would like to discuss, even if it isn't one of those links in the first paragraphs. And then there's this.

Stop beating my heart around, m'ok?

So it would seem, or even appear, that the sardonic sarcastic biting irreverence is about tonight. Morbid, even, in spots (at least they didn't say kill Spot, I mean, Spot was an innocent victim in all that, I mean, in case it matters). When you reach the point of Zing (whether it's heart strings or mental floss), you have made some sort of connection and if you are not perturbed or otherwise offended, you may even be a friend. Just don't show up in sheep's clothing or we might consider giving you a flea bath before entry. Out, out danged spot. See Ikea for no apparent reason.

This could turn into an epic, maybe even a classic, if I decided to care less and believe tonight, or something in that vein, but I don't know if I feel like bleeding all over the place given the heat. I am feeling itchy in spite of a long hot shower before the nap from with I just woke in mid entry (the links and additional paragraphs from all that jazz on might have a slightly different flavor as the self-pity ration to irreverence has altered somewhat and if that is still noticeable after all the links and other insertions, well, I've certainly failed in a task I never actually set out to do. That's what I get for painting the target after the arrow lands without actually shooting an arrow, or something like that.

What arrow? Who's arrow? See arrow run. Wait, maybe we see arrow fly. That might have been what was wrong with the arrow, The arrow that would not fly. It had a wood knot in it, or some such nonsense that makes sense only if you want it to and if you do, you can take one giant step to the side to try on a different perspective and if you like what you see, you may be able to come forward at the tone. Especially if you remember the copper as it is hot, blazing sun, no bare bottomed little girls without lots of lotion. I'll put the lotion on myself, thank you.

Oh, now before we go about getting all nostalgic (or just plain weird with a hot face and all), remember that even a sarcastic irreverent slap-happy legend in her own mind can surprise you with seriousness now and then... and no, I don't mean me this time, but we can use the royal we just for the fun of it, even if we lose interest or appear to just because life got too busy and we disappear from the internet for a year (nudge nudge wink wink).

I seem to be tossing a lot of dirt around and maybe some drama, but where are the details you might ask (in case it matters, right?) and I might point out that the links have much detail but we refer to the life I am living, not the distractions I've been tossing in as freely as any metaphor you might want to insert here (make it good, ok?). It was the heat, I tell ya, the heat got to him and he just cvouldn't concentrate or remember or function.

Maybe it's because we haven't left the house in days, except to head to Curly's for cards Tuesday night. Saturday night was the last previous siting of outdoors. That is largely due to Colin who came in and got him all wet, but also due to the mood of the hermit that has dominated this week. Also noted just moments ago and even earlier when we woke and most prominently in the shower before the long nap was the weakness of muscles in the upper arms and the thought of exercise stirred up again but more concerning is the thought that the muscles just seem to weaken and the body just seems to tired more easily than ever before and we are wondering if that is a sign of disease being neglected because there is no health insurance or money or if we are dying faster than ever before or if that is just the human aging process (did I mention the hair has been thinning for the last few years, I mean, the hair has always shed but the replacement hairs are not growing back the way they used to... I contemplate rogain, but read that like too many drugs these days, once you start you must continue forever or hair falls out even faster so I don't start... the muscle fatigue is much more concerning)... sigh... in case it matters and all.

More box openings, that's what I need.

Later :)