Sunday, May 2, 2010


I've been feeling gross for the last few days. I take this to mean that summer's really here-- as if the other seasonal indicators weren't proof enough. I blame my blechitude on the pervasiveness of the heat. See, we're trying our damnedest to not have to use the AC before it's absolutely necessary, but it's getting there more and more each day, and I keep waking up covered in sweat and gross. Which is not a good way to start the day. My skin is awful, my hair is... we'll call it textured... and my stomach just feels terrible. All the time. Whether I eat or not, and regardless of what I eat. If it's solid, my stomach wants nothing to do with it.

Only I've drunk up all my juice and smoothies, and I can't drink soda (and don't want to, anyway). And I'm out of cash, since I haven't worked at the Inn in a week, and that's my usual food money.

So yay! Summer! But boo to all the grossness that comes with it. Next up will be dozens of skin complaints-- which is the result of being bred for colder, drier climes. How did the Brits not die of fin rot when they were here in the 1700s and 1800s? Summers are brutal when you're naked, let alone wearing wool...
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