Sweatin' up a storm

It is brutally hot and humid. It just sucks the life out of you. I suppose I shouldn't complain. After all, I chose to live in Florida in the summer. It was voluntary, no one forced me to do it. They call it the "Dog Days". I never understood that, never met a dog that liked this kind of heat. Maybe it's because we all look and act like dogs in this heat; panting, with our tongues hanging out. And my ears even droop.

But it isn't the worst heat and humidity I have been through. That was in Northern Virginia, about 35 miles west of D.C. The temps would be in triple digits and the humidity would be over 95%. You couldn't breathe. You couldn't think straight. Which might explain why the federal government acts like it does. Mold would grow in the oddest places and in the span of a few short hours. I spent a little time in the Philippines and it wasn't that bad.

Still, heat just drains you, doesn't it? I wouldn't trade it for freezing cold, though. Not me. I have had people say they would rather deal with cold than heat. I say then move to Canada or Alaska. I'll put up with the heat. People say you can always add clothes to deal with the cold but you can only peel them off until you're naked. I have nothing against naked. As long as there's a ceiling fan and AC. And I notice that it keeps the Jehova's Witnesses from coming back when you answer the door that way.