Wednesday, August 02, 2006

Miscellany: Heat wave. When bugs attack. Early onset senility.

For my friends in Seattle who were experiencing 90 degree temperatures last week, I don't mean to boast, but last I checked weather.com this afternoon, it said: 95 degrees. Feels like 101 degrees. The forecast high for tomorrow is 99. I am surviving. I am durable!

On the other hand, we have AC, and we rarely go outside when it's this hot. Of course the AC has to be on ALL the time to keep the indoor temperature around 70 (higher upstairs), and if we want to hear the TV we have to turn it off.

Every time I go check the mail, it seems I come back with some sort of weird beetle creature attached to me, except I don't notice it until several minutes later when it emerges from my hair or wherever it's been hiding and viciously attacks me with its, um, weirdness. They're harmless, actually, aside from sneakily adhering to my person and looking oddly green and shiny.

For some reason ever since the condo management put these bug bags up around the courtyard to catch all the swarming bugs, there have been more bugs. The bags seem to be meat markets for frantically mating bugs as much as they are traps. I never noticed all these bugs until the management started trying to control them. Hmm. I feel a metaphor for some societal problem coming on, but I'm not sure what it is.

And, completely unrelated, this is what happens to me now that I'm all of 31 years old:

Sunday: Chris tells us we have a choir rehearsal Wednesday night at seven. Somehow I suspect I will forget this, although I don't have anything else to do this week.
Today, 4:45: "I just remembered I have a choir rehearsal at 7," I tell Justin. "Good thing I didn't forget!"
8:45, in the shower: "Oh, crap, I forgot the choir rehearsal!"

I never really needed to write down engagements before, but I think maybe I should start doing it. I suspect that perhaps I forgot because I never saw tonight's rehearsal in writing and I don't remember things I only learn aurally. Except music. Well, maybe that's proof I can read music better than I think I can.

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