I am a tough girl in most respects. I can walk, run, swim, ski, XC ski, bike 50 miles on my 50th birthday, climb a fourteener...you name it - I am usually game enough to try.
This heat business, though. When I am standing in line to pay for things in a garden center and SUDDENLY I have a mood swing the likes of, oh, say, Mt. St. Helens two decades back, then I suspect my system has gone awry. But, no, I climb into my car and the thermometer reads in the TRIPLE DIGITS and I feel a wee bit justified.
Then I head to a grocery store where everyone seems to be moving in SLO-MO, except for me, because in my head, the music is playing Let's Get This Party Going (and in my head, that means get the stuff and get outta here!!!!) and I feel like ramming every single one of those slowpokes SMACK in the rear so that they get the message: move LOTS faster or get out the the way, bucko!
Where did my snow go? And my sleet? The darkened afternoons?
Methinks this might be a slow and painful summer.