I don't know if you've heard anything about this little heat wave we've been experiencing in NYC the past few days but let me give you a firsthand account.
Ridiculous Heat = Overpowering Desire to Die or Kill = Unhappy Fat Pregnant Lady = Death to the Masses.
Now I wouldn't complain, I swear, I would not complain, except for the fact that the reason I am unbearably hot and sweaty constantly is because (ready for this one?) THERE IS NO AIR CONDITIONING IN MY 12th FLOOR OFFICE OR IN MY THIRD FLOOR HOME. Compliments of our wonderful Maintenance staff here at work and my Near Death Landlord who is not yet aware that he is near death but he's about to find out shortly just how close he and death are right now. VERY.
In other news, our power went out last night at 9pm, yes! And unfortunately it's difficult to run that one tiny window AC unit in our bedroom which manages to keep me slightly cooler than "Well Done" but pretty much "Medium Well" at all times with no power. So it was back to Heat = Die = Kill last night until about 1am when it finally kicked back on, along with all of the lights in our apartment that G apparently went around turning on when he realized the power was out. So I'm jolted awake after I had finally fell asleep swimming in ice packs and get up to start turning off all the lights. As I get back in bed a few minutes later, G wakes up from his dead sleep which he had been in all night (I know because I was watching him while I lay there sweating to death), looks around bewildered for a minute and says, "The power's back on!" Now, I ask you, in the same circumstances what would you have said at this point? Does it involve a lot of four letter words? Because my answer does.
So now when people ask me everywhere I go if the heat is killing me and then follow it up with "I wouldn't want to be you right now" I swiftly kick them in the nuts and/or boob and tell them to shove it. What? I claim free speech and pregnancy induced insanity.