Today, I'm not feeling positive. So, if you'll forgive me, I'm going to act like a two year old and throw a temper tantrum. Or as they say in My Little Corner of Texas, I'm fixin' to pitch a fit.
I blame my Negative Nellie attitude on the heat.
Yes, I know, I know, I had a week and a half reprieve from it, which makes it all the worse. I got used to fifty two degree nights and seventy five degree days, can you blame me?! It's been a hellish one hundred degrees every. single. day. for the past I don't know how long.
I'm tired of going to the Wal-Martss and feeling as if my legs will spontaneously combust as I walk from my car to the store, only to have to repeat the process in reverse order.
Taking a shower and then having to take one again four hours later because I went to the Wal-Martss and had my legs feel like they were going to spontaneously combust and also had my body create its own personal sauna as I climbed into my one thousand degree oven of a car, has gotten old.
I'm tired of trying to keep things alive. Every plant wilts in this heat, no matter if its little tag said 'plant in full sun, water only when dry'. Watering is an ordeal.
So don't water, you say.
I've contemplated this. But, I don't want my yard to look like our hay pastures...brown and ugly.
I've had it with being outside for longer than a nano second and immediately breaking out into a sweaty mess.
I have no desire to exercise. Even at five in the morning it's eighty degrees and humid. Trainer Man's workouts are killer in the best of weather, under these conditions a pre-paid funeral plan is in order.
I fear that my pretty, tree filled, green Little Corner of Texas will become like West Texas, a brown, brittle, tumbleweed-growing mess. No disrespect intended to my Texas neighbors to the west.
And, why is it that only now the national news is reporting about the hundred degree weather and drought we and Oklahoma have been enduring for the past, oh, I don't know, two months? Is it because New York and the Eastern seaboard are having ninety degree days. Oh, puhleeze! Do I sound bitter? Me? Bitter? No, not moi.
What I need to lift me out of my funk is some rain. Oh, don't get me wrong, we've had clouds roll in and then laugh that diabolical muahaha laugh as they roll on by. Doc the Weatherman says rain is not in our foreseeable future.
Alright, I'm finished rolling and kicking on the floor like a two year old. And, like a two year old that's pitched a fit, I'm not getting what I want.
However....as I've observed in the parenting style of some, if I pitch another fit, I might get what I want. Hmmm...