Heatwave

Today is supposed to be the last day of a four-day heatwave.  No sign of it ending yet.  I haven’t sat around and done so little for a long time.  Even that week or two I spent on painkillers in a wheelchair in September, when my knees took savage revenge for god-knows-what, I think I got more done than these last three days.  When it hit 40C (That’s 102F) outside today, I finally gave up on trying to stay cool.  I opened all the windows and curtains and sat outside absorbing the heat.  If there’s nothing else I have the energy to do in this heat, at least I can try to acclimatise. 

Now it’s 33C (90F) inside, and I don’t like my chances of sleeping tonight.  Much of the garden has died.  I tried ringing people when it was too hot to do anything, but everyone I rang was out.  My dad might wonder why I don’t go swim in their pool.  I considered it, but I never do.  It’s just not comfortable visiting them.  I mean, I can get through dinner with them and that’s fine, but I can’t relax.  And what’s the point of swimming if you can’t relax? 

I’m sorry, none of this is even worth writing.  It’s so hot my hands are sweating and I just can’t think.