NOVEMBER!

As promised, here are a few words on the recent heat stroke:

What the crap?

I'm pretty sure my husband is somewhere groaning and rolling his eyes, though he doesn't yet know why. He is sick to death of me constantly pointing out not only the temperature, but the date on the calender as well. It's pretty much some form of "I can't believe it is 90 degrees. It's NOVEMBER!" or "Guess how hot it is. Just guess. And are you aware that it is NOVEMBER?"

He's just as miserable as me. Though, I suspect for very different reasons.

I'm not pleasant in the heat. I can deal for about two months, but by late summer I'm way over it and beginning to look forward to fall. But when you live in the greater Los Angeles area, you can't really count on cooler temperatures until, oh, I don't know, January? This is gravely and just...so very much wrong.

I sometimes wish that we could have stayed in Northern California, specifically the Bay Area because the weather was always cool and perfect, and even when it got hot it was never TOO hot, and it never lasted long. But, then I would have had to listen to my conservative husband complain about all the hippies. Plus his work is here. So, this is all his fault really. Just kidding honey! I love you. You pay my rent. Pet Shop Boys, anyone?

Okay, the heat is clearly making me a crazy-ramble lady. A SWEATY, crazy-ramble lady, so I will stop now.

You're welcome.

P.S. Can you make the heat stop? Because I will make you cookies if you can.