That's me in the middle of a heat wave. Except for that brief respite last week, we've had a long hot spell and, honestly, I'm starting to get depressed from it.

My apartment has not been cooler than 80 degrees for about a week now...and the last two or three days it's stalled out at 85. I am so sick of taking cold--and by cold I mean the water is switched all the way over to cold--showers and being dripping-sweaty two minutes after I'm out of the shower. And there's the added "pleasure" of putting clothes on and it's so hot that the clothes feel like they've just been pulled from the dryer. Ugh!

The furkids are miserable, the fish are practically begging me to drop a tray of ice cubes into their aquariums, and I'm screaming a blue streak every three minutes or so because everything is annoying me.

To top it off, one of the furkids--what the heck, I'll name names, it was Billie--pulled her favourite nasty trick and peed over the edge of the litter box and onto the floor. I put her in "time out" (which is in the bathtub--no water of course!--with the shower doors closed) and at first she complained. Then I told her her options were A) stay in there and shut up or B) I could let her out and she ran the risk of me killing her. Because, when it's hotter than hell in the apartment, turning on the blazing hot lights in the bathroom and cleaning up cat piss is just not on my list of things I'd like to spend my evening doing! Wisely, she chose Option A and sat quietly until I let her out about 15 minutes later.

Now she's trying very hard to make it up to me by giving leg rubs and chatting to me. Since I just got out of another cold shower, I'm slightly less homicidal, so Billie thinks her chances of getting out of this evening alive are pretty good now.

Meantime, I'd best slam that glass of chardonnay while it's still chilled.

Oh, at 10:00 p.m. it's 72 degrees out. Have I mentioned I HATE hot weather?

Oh yeah, I did. GRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!