116.

dammit. i had written half of this entry when my browser crashed. i lost everything i had written, which is mostly about how fucking hot it is up in this motherfucker. the dvd player broke today. my computer keeps crashing. the bank outside the coffee shop says it’s 116. it’s hot, people. hot. so hot my cheeks are sweating. all of them. my eyelids are sweating. I’M IN MY HOUSE. the cats look like someone steam-rolled them. they don’t want to eat. ants have come into the house in search of any water, at all, and are happy enough to hang out in all the sinks and near the cat food or near the litter box and why is my life so gross? Continue reading