if it doesn’t need to be said, I’ll say it.

It’s motherfucking HOT out.

I woke up yesterday in a pool of my own sweat. The sun was out, the skylights were beaming, and we hadn’t turned on the AC the night before. I lay there for a moment, thoroughly stymied by heat and humidity, before peeling myself off the mattress and slinking into the bathroom.

Sadly, when we finally slogged our way downstairs, we discovered that it was actually COOLER in our attic apartment than it was outside.

To make matters worse, last night around 7pm, my face and neck started itching like a sonofabitch. After the skin came the eyes and the dripping nose, and arriving home at eleven thirty I found myself in the grip of a massive allergy attack, the likes of which i hadn’t seen since the last day of fifth grade. I tore off my clothes, scraped up some Benadryl, and fell into bed.

(on the last day of fifth grade, at the height of my allergic response to whatever it is I’ve been allergic to, my eyes were swollen shut from pollen and scratching. I had this new outfit of floral denim shorts with a matching cropped jacket [some seriously questionable fashion choices were made during my preformed years] and there’s this pathetic picture of me headed out the door, striking some retarded pose in this retarded outfit with my hair done up in a completely ridiculous approximation of puffed bangs, and to top it all off, my eyes look like I’d spent the last week mainlining heroin and clawing at myself.)

I woke up this morning, again, soaked through with sweat, exhausted, itchy face and eyes, and dragged myself to work, where I am currently wishing I had some coffee or maybe cocaine. God I fucking hate June.

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