If you have stepped out of your home in the last three weeks, you will have noticed the climate closely resembling the surface of the sun. If you have had the misfortune of encountering me in the last three weeks, I am very sorry. Suffice it to say that it’s the heat. I’m unpleasant, and I’m aware. August in Texas is always miserable, but this year is a sweltering standout due to the extra pregnancy pounds I’m lugging around.
To quote Jane Austen, “What dreadful weather we have! It keeps me in a continual state of inelegance.” I can think of some more appropriate non-Victorian adjectives to describe my current situation. This 21st century gal is in a constant state of sliminess, awkwardness, mugginess, and unseemliness.
Perhaps it’s not a joke, but rather karma coming into play. Mom was pregnant with me during the heat wave of 1980. They make t-shirts about this, people.
The summer of 1980 saw temperatures reach above 100 degrees 69 times; including a record 42 consecutive days from June to August. Did I mention she was pregnant in Galveston with 99% humidity and due in mid-September?
I think I’ve talked myself into believing the karma argument. Apparently I deserve this.
I think I’ve talked myself into believing the karma argument. Apparently I deserve this.
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