Day 128
Now that I have the “Stuck on Band-Aids” song going through my head, I hope you do, too. Misery loves company.
I laugh, though, because when the 3rd Comcast guy was here last week (before he screwed things up royally) he started humming the theme song from “Lambchop’s PlayHouse” … or whatever that show was called. It was my fault as there is a Lambchop puppet on the shelf and he saw it and well, he told me he hated me and now I hate him because that damn song is STILL stuck in my brain.
Along with the Band-Aids one. Great.
In any case, I’m not stuck on Band-Aids (though I need a few after ripping out carpeting last night and encountering 18,762 NAILS and tacks – thank you very much people).
I am stuck on MY CHAIR. My ball chair.
My big, bouncy, wonderful ball chair. Though comfy, it is not the greatest thing when the temps get over 90 and the humidity is a major factor and when the person sitting on it is wearing … shorts.
It feels akin to having duct tape on the back of my legs … not really good … and really rather uncomfortable in a sticky, quasi-nipping kind of way.
So, every 43 seconds I stand up and re-position myself so that my legs don’t get permanently glued to this rubber-ish bouncy ball that I so desperately love and need and use and enjoy. That is, when it’s not 90 degrees in the shade and so humid I could grow orchids in this office without any problems.
Whatever.
Humidity. It has been, pretty much (with the exception of a few days when it was 53 degrees and raining) since my arrival … the bane of my existance. My hair is frizzy and flat. I am as clammy as an octopus. I am a slobberpuss of sweat. There. I said it … again.
I am a sweat hog. I find it amazingly repulsive (the sweating and stickiness) and so supremely surprising that I cannot tolerate this humidity. And I was told today that it’s really “rather nice out”. Great. Just great. I’m going to be an awful mess once it gets hotter/more humid. Can’t wait.
Today was 90 or 92 … when it gets up there I don’t really think it makes much of a difference. To me it’s like the difference between 450 and 452. All I know is, IT IS HOT. Damn hot. Damn sticky. I am clammy. I am MOIST. I find it very, very gross … not to mention uncomfortable. Extremely uncomfortable. I am NOT liking this.
I lived in Denver for 34 years … when we had humidity that reached 13% we thought it was a humid day! Anything higher than 26% and it was downright tropical.
Well, I keep scanning the skies (if I could see them, but I can’t because of all the trees and no vistas here) to see if there are toucans but so far – none. I’m sure they are here somewhere though … with all this warm air there have got to be parrots and the like flying around here somewhere.
In any case … I am at my desk … typing away, looking for tropical birds and getting some thigh squats in every half-minute. Otherwise I’d be literally “on the ball” and stuck on … and not on Band-Aids.