Back to work today. Shit. And this heat wave continues – in the 90’s at least until Thursday (and probably Friday) – for us, and everybody else on the East Coast. Now, I know it gets hotter in other places, but that’s why I don’t live in other places (that, and I’ve never had enough ambition to move; hell, after half a century, I know where everything is around here). I’ll take a little snow shoveling over this hot, humid, and buggy shit any day. The weather dork tells me we haven’t had three consecutive 90+ degree days since August 2007, and here we’re looking at five. This is what living in DC for a summer was like.
I’ve had to resort to turning on the a/c (oh well; I guess it’s good to give the new furnace filter a workout). Even worse, I’ve got “on call” duty this week at work, the part time person who backs me up is off this week, and I have an afternoon meeting today, which may mean I won’t be able to get the dogs to the park until tomorrow. It’s too damn hot for them anyway (except they get to go swimming), but it’s hard to explain that to ’em. To make things even more annoying, we’re at the peak of deer fly season (I hate those goddamn things the most – deer flies first, with black flies second and mosquitoes barely beating out no-see-ums for third).
Saturday night, our house got egged. I think somebody has their holidays mixed up. They hit the window screen, and it splattered inside and all over my nice new (and unpainted) window frame and shelf. I sanded it off the wood, but am unsure how to get it out of the screen. Since I had enough beer, I didn’t actually leave the house on the fourth, except to cut the grass in the back yard, so I never saw the front of the house. But when i was leaving to go to the park yesterday, a cop was over next door with my neighbors, and they called me over. Turns out, they got egged, too. And so did the guy on the corner and my crazy next door neighbor (probably other people, too). They’d called the cops, and the same guy had been there that day, too. So then i looked, and the front of our garage got hit, and also my front porch. And my car. Bastids. But I guess I’m glad they weren’t singling me out or something (and glad they didn’t smash windows).
The Queen is coming! The Queen is coming! Is there something wrong with me that I don’t care? I mean, it’s not like she’s the Beatles – or even Ricky Gervais – and didn’t three-quarters of us just get through celebrating our independence from these people? If she gets off the plane wearing that iPod Obama gave her, though, that would be cool.
Well, I reckon I’d better face reality and get ready for work, here. Good thing I took Friday off.