This is the truth, the whole truth, the absolute effing truth:

It is too hot. It is also too windy. Windy + hot equals horrible. It is so hot, I literally can't think. Moreover, even though I just this very moment told myself that it's lame to whine about the weather, I am helpless. I can't stop myself from whining about the weather. I know, I have whined about the weather on this blog about a million times. That picture--it's a plate from Inferno, and I've already made that reference on this blog as well. Couldn't I write something thrilling and original instead? like a poem or an essay or movie? or maybe read a book or something. Nope, all I got is: ugh, hot. And windy.

Okay, I am officially pulling it together now. Today, I did do some cleaning and organizing, which necessitated a prior trip to Target. A shockingly expensive trip to Target, it must be said, the result of which was the purchase of some plastic storage bins, potato chips, cleaning supplies, and other inconsequential whatnot, as far as I can tell. That stuff apparently adds up.

I exited the Target with my cart laden with all of the above and some miscellaneous other things, and drifted about the parking lot like a tumbleweed. Or maybe like Paolo/Francesca from Inferno or something like that. I flung myself from the car to the front porch, dragged in my goods, and hastened down the stairs, where it is kind of naturally cool (also: icy in the winter--I should work on remembering that the frigidity of January is but a foretaste of the cool refuge of July). And as long as I stay downstairs, I am semi-functional. Fortuitously, the cool downstairs happens to be where there is a bunch of organizing and cleaning to be done. I'm lucky like that.