Baby, it's hot outside

I've been bad with blogging lately, I really have. Each morning, I wake up and think, Ooh, this'll make a neat idea for a blog.

And then I promptly forget.

The idea comes back to me at the most inopportune times, like when I've just closed the door to go to work, when I'm brushing my teeth at night, or when I wake up during the night. So, I mutter my idea over and over again in (vain) hopes that I'l remember, but I never do.

But my latest thought: I thought I was the only person in the world to like these bloody hot temperatures we'd been having until I met a woman on the subway and we commiserated over this. The humid-er, the better-er, we both agreed. There's just something about the mercury spiking past 40C that makes me feel so alive. That same heat and humidity that causes the sidewalk to shimmer also makes me feel so alive, so aware of myself. With each gulp of my water bottle, I'm forced into momentary solace where no thoughts exist, just a feeling of awareness. As I swipe errant drops of water off my lips, I notice a sheen of sweat on my arms, bringing to mind an itch behind my knee. And as the sun blazes down in the distance, the oppressive heat turns the night air sultry. There's a sensuality to all of it that only extreme humidity can provide.

The lesson in this? I'm convinced I was a lizard in a past life.