There’s one thing you should know right away: my apartment doesn’t have airconditioning. It’s an old one-bedroom apartment in a very old building, in a very very old part of town. The red bricks have a way of holding the heat, and I’ve realized that this hot, sticky humidity that permeates my living space is just the calling card of summertime in ohio.
It’s a lethargic kind of heat. A lazy kind of heat. A move-slowly-too-hot-to-clean kind of heat. I perch in front of the open back door, hoping for a breeze, wondering if I’ll ever be cool again.
Today, with the gray overcast weather, the air moved quietly through my apartment. Like magic, I was motivated do all the things: clean the kitchen, sweep the bedroom, heck, even doing a little writing. It’s been, what, over a year since I’ve posted?
I’m telling you, a good cool breeze can work miracles.
And ice cold popsicles.