Whining Isn't Cool

A heat wave in Seattle - 100 degrees of miserable miserableness. Saturday was one of those days when you envy the Southerners that, even though they endure 90 degree weather and 99 percent humidity, are blessed with air conditioning in every home, and for the most part it is central air, so there is no looking at those ugly AC window boxes that enjoy stupendous sales here over weekends like the last. It was too hot to even go to the lake and swim. But alas, sans AC most homes were stifling with no respite in sight, so I decided to avoid both my house and outdoors by heading to my local grocer's freezer section. Aaah, sweet relief - and it was even a little too cold - dressed in a tank and shorts, I left frozen to the core and even enjoyed the heat of the sun when I stepped back outside, but that ended the second I got back in my SUV, which was a regular sauna. I made it through the day somehow, though and that night I slept on the floor in my living room by the open screen door because it was the only semi-cool place in the house. When I woke the next morning I decided to make use of the hot day and this time go swimming - why not endure the heat and car ride for some splashing fun? I got myself dressed in my bikini, board shorts and tank and dressed Bubba, (a nickname for my 2.5 y/o daughter [yes a product of unhappy marriage- yes one of many contributors to soap opera current state of life, which I've touched upon and may expand on later]) in her suit and terry cover-up, slathered us with sunscreen, gathered snacks, towels and a magazine pour moi. I made sure Bubba went potty and loaded myself up and went outside only to discover that it was overcast and frigid.

Typical.