Muumuu-Wearing Heat-Wave

I have not slept peacefully in about 3 days.

You see, this past weekend, summer hit like a shovel to the face.

And normally I'm a masochist and take it with a smile, begging summer to smack me around a bit on the ass too while she's at it.

But man alive, my apartment gets hot. And man alive is it impossible to exercise, sleep, or even MOVE a few inches when you're in that kind of heat.

And I have tried the sleeping butt-nekkid thing every night too--the thinking being that the more surface area exposed, the more that can catch and twist on the slightly obese and wheezy muummuu-wearing breeze that waddles through my singular upstairs window every once in a while.

It doesn't seem to work.

Last night I caved and went to look for an oscillating fan.

There are too many fans in the world and too many people who spend too much time searching for the too many fans in the world. And I am one of them.

But I found one.

And I tried sleeping last night under the soft tickly hand of the fan.

And yet THAT didn't help either.

The fan-fingers freaked me out all night for no clearly apparent reason.

The end result was a vivid dream I had about showering with border-jumping illegal mexican immigrants (and when the cops came for them, I managed to escape, but only because a friend of mine distracted the cops with magic tricks like the candy that turns your mouth black and the fake fly in an ice cube).

And now the heat and the lack of sleep and my wobbly, heavy-handed eyelids are making me ramble in a way that is making me more sleepy and that has no clearly discernible pattern to it.

Perhaps this whole blog entry is a giant metaphor for something heaty and summer-related.

Perhaps I just need someone who's game to run through some sprinklers with me, or at least come over my apartment and sit with our beer guts stuck out, a beer tightly-pressed to our foreheads, circling ice cubes around any bare parts of our skin that are showing.

Any takers?

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