Beating the Heat... (Not, I Suppose, Unlike the Spurs)

It's stinkin' hot here.

I lived in the Bahamas for 2 years, and I honestly don't remember complaining about the heat. Maybe it was because the ocean was never more than a 5-minute drive away. Maybe it's because I wasn't 36 weeks pregnant (or, pregnant at all, come to think of it). Maybe it's because I had a better attitude in my 20's.

But between about 2 and 8pm every day right now, I'm wilting. I'm useless. I move from couch to bed (to floor) to chair to couch again. Once in a while I make it all the way across the kitchen to get a freezie. But then it's couch again.


Here, however, are some little moments I've stumbled across that have redeemed parts of my last few sweltering, moving-from-couch-to-chair-to-bed kind of days:

1) The Costco Dairy section. You know what I'm talking about. The one where you usually leave your cart in the hallway as you plan the most efficient route from the 4-litre milk jugs to the half-and-half cream and back out to the hallway again before you freeze to death. Well, not me. Not this week. This week I walked in, looked around at the different colors of milk jugs... and giggled. (I thought I should leave when poor Rylen started saying "It's coooold, Mommy. It's cold").

2) Listening to Ryan Google videos for "How to make a home-made air conditioner."

3) Walking into Walmart and fantasizing about that movie where the girl hides and then sleeps over in the store. You remember? Walking past the duvets and pillows last night, that's all I could think about. I giggled again.

4) The moment where I sat down on a cold seat in a public washroom (sorry for any of you germaphobes), and I almost burst out in grateful song. Seriously, it was the coldest thing I felt all day. I was in heaven. I thought about feigning an embarrassing need to linger in the washroom, but... well, my social instinct to be cooler than that kicked in, I guess.



So we spent this evening shopping for portable air conditioners. Our city is almost entirely sold out, which was both disappointing and comforting. Disappointing for the obvious reasons; and comforting for the solidarity with the rest of the population, knowing we're not the only ones totally, like, dying.

Through a series of circumstances and conversation at the first of 5 stores we went to, we landed fifth and finally at an obscure store, off the beaten path. We asked the first customer service provider we saw if they had any portable A/C units left.
"Nope, sold out."
I told him I'd called 20 minutes earlier and been informed that there was one left... somewhere.
(This was true. Sounds like the ploy of a desperate woman, but it was true).

He went to check in the back, and came out wheeling a box on a dolly with a paper taped on it and the name "Mike" written in permanent marker. He informed me that he had set it aside for someone earlier that day, but that they had failed to pick it up, so he would like to sell it to us.

Are we bad people for taking it?

Sorry, Mike.
Heat makes you do crazy things.