… and it’s already nearly 90 degrees. Wake me up when summer ends, please?
In truth, this summer’s been pretty mild, and it isn’t even all that humid, really. But I wish it would rain again. Soon. I like rain. I especially like the way it rains every day for about 20 minutes in places like Colorado, almost as if someone’s scheduled a daily downpour.
This Friday is my birthday.
I’ll be 37.
I don’t feel that old.
But I also don’t see the point in lying about my age.
The dogs and I just got back from morning walkies. Cleo has very thick soft fur and does not do well in the heat. This means that she stops pulling after half a block. Zorro, despite his medical issues, is speedy and spirited, bounding over tiny rocks as if they were huge boulders, jumping onto curbs, and landing weightlessly in the grass, and walking with his tail curled happily over his back and his ears alert for anything and everything we might encounter.
As for me, I’m hot, and sticky, and so I shall end this.
Shower. Coffee. Work.