dog days

It's August. We're in the throws of the "dog days of summer," the hottest, most sultry days of the year. When you put it that way, it doesn't really seem so bad.

When Christopher and I were together, we agreed to only complain at one extreme or the other, and we complained all winter long. There just doesn't seem to be much point to winter, ya know? Although, to be fair, I enjoyed last winter more than I have in a long time...guess I don't hate it as much as he does.

But back to summer. I live in a third-floor walk-up with no air conditioning, and I think my body is getting used to it. Probably a good thing, seeing as how the temperature's not supposed to dip below 90 during the day for quite a while.

It's not hot, it's tropical. It's not humid, it's sultry. We move slower. We wear less. We feel a little more alive. We eat popsicles and salads and get excited when the ding-ding man goes by. We take refuge in the movie theater or the mall. We drive with the top down.

The dog days are here. They won't last forever. If it's your thing, revel in it. Breathe in...breathe out...let it engulf you. If it's not your thing, wait a few months. And comfort me when I'm cold. I'll need it.