Am I on fire?

Milwaukee, Wisconsin
Currently: 87°F Clear
Currently: 30°C Clear
Wind: West at 8 MPH
Humidity: 69% Dewpoint: 76°FBarometer: 29.88 inches and rising
Heat Index: 97°F
Wind: West at 12 KPH

Help me! I'm not one to dwell on the weather. My wacky weather entry was merely to point out how a San Diego native has adjusted to living in the 'great dairy state'.

Yesterday it was a terenchal thunder storm. Today it's a heat wave. It's 95 degrees but with the dew point it feels like 115.

Don't you dare call me a wussy. I know, a girl from San Diego should be able to take the heat.

Well, I can't! I'm melting here people. I can't sweat like normal human beings. Instead I glisten and swell. It's unnatural. I swell up everywhere. I don't just have a serious case of heat induced cankles, but I think I might have thankles.

You know, my thigh has joined with my ankle producing a hideous elephant like limb. You gasp. It's ok, I gasped too.

Then I'm starting to see things. I decided it was in my best interest not to admit that I saw Garfield and Odi walk by me. Maybe I should have, hospitals have air conditioning, right?

Why don't I just turn on the air conditioning you ask? Well duh, I may be hallucinating but I'm not a total nit wit. It doesn't work! The stupid thing decides to run out of freon the day Wisconsin has an identity crisis and thinks its Florida.

We have to get the guy out tomorrow but in the mean time I think every crayon in the house has liquified . In a survival attempt I've been hiding in the basement where it's a tad bit cooler.

By cooler I mean the paint in the basement is actually bubbling up and peeling off. The condensation on the pipes have left tiny little puddles. I almost broke my neck when I slipped carrying the laundry hamper.

Laundry? Yes, I'm doing laundry in this heat wave because I'm a stupid girl. Today I'm both stupid and stubborn. Stupid, stubborn and hot. What else am I going to do all day in that dungeon? I figured I might as well conquer Mt. Washmore once and for all! If I'm going to die in this heat, I'm dying with clean, carefully folded piles of laundry. Someone else can put it away though because my back is killing me and it's too hot for a massage. Now that's flippin' hot!

Hmm. Is it possible that Richard has prayed for this heat? Knowing I'd busy myself in the basement? Is this some sort of set up? So he can have clean underwear? Who needs underwear in 95 degree weather anyways? Oh dear God, heat induced paranoia is setting in. I'm on the verge of being dilusional, more so then normal.

I better go scamper back down to the basement. And I'm going to take the rest of the popsicles with me and nobody can do a darn thing about it. I feel no shame in admitting I'm going to horde them. Does that make me a bad mother? As if they need another reason to fire me..

I'm eating them all! Every last one of them. I'm desparate here. A girl has to do what a girl has to do when she can't sweat. I'm hiding out while watching Northern Exposure on Dvd and if you they don't like it, I'm sticking my blue-green tongue out at them.

Oh and if I die, my dear friends, you must fight over who gets my butterfly collection, vintage pac-man shirt, Grease records, Strawberry Shortcake ragdoll, leather boots and my cameras. Sorry, I'm just too foggy headed to make out a will.