As I lay sizzling

That was the title of a blog post that's been sitting in my head (the whole post, not the title) for two days now. It's a fascinating tale of my decision to purchase an air conditioner unit. I haven't written the post but I'm this close to buying the A/C. My blog posts are backed up. Also I need to regale you with the day I went to two parties and then a "karaoke night" in Orange County and my thoughts about the Sex and the City movie. This is turning into the promised prune post situation, which I'd link to if I had more energy. I'm losing energy people. It's because of the heat. If I were a piece of spinach I'd be wilted. If I were cheese I would be separated (the kind of cheese that comes in a can, of course). If I were a shrinky dink, I would be shrunk. If I were one of those window ornament kit things with the metal frame that you put little crystals in and then bake in the oven till the crystals melt and form hard plastic and then you have a hard plastic thing in the shape of Strawberry Shortcake, I'd be that piece of hard plastic. If I were the sound, heat, light spectrum, I'd be, um, okay well that teaches me to try to be scientific when my brain is melting. I'd be hot is what I'm trying to say.

And the thing is that it's not even that hot. I mean, it's nowhere near as hot as the surface of the sun, which I've been on, well, I don't want to brag, but a handful and change times. So I know what hot is. It's just that this apartment traps heat. It also traps piles of clothes, crushed dreams, lint, bottles of nail polish (now I'm just looking at the surface of my desk), papers, cords, CDs, a napkin, a camera, speakers, fake flowers, envelopes, a tape measure, my economic stimulus check which didn't stimulate me because my economic erogenous zone is the one between my ears, uncle sam!, a nail file, okay I could go on but this is ridiculous.