I’m wearing shorts tomorrow

Forgive me for splattering my horrifying visage across your computer screen or whatever digital thingamabob you’re using to view this, but what I’m wearing is actually kind of important to this story. It was eighty-five degrees in my classroom when I got to work, again. I bought that pullover over the weekend, on clearance, for fourteen bucks. It is wonderfully soft and while it is warm it’s not quite as warm as it looks (that’s a good thing) and I like the pattern and the color. I spent the whole weekend planning to wear it today and looking forward to it.

As I was walking into the building this morning, I thought to myself that it was probably going to be hellishly hot in my classroom and I wasn’t going to get to wear my nice new pullover because it was going to be too hot. And I was exactly right. I didn’t last into second hour, especially since I insisted on drinking my Goddamned coffee, temperature in the room be damned.

We got an email that the Thingamawhosis had broken, and that there was already a guy in the building repairing it, and that classroom temperatures would start coming down soon. By lunchtime it was still 80 degrees, and I sent a cautiously worded follow-up email, which generated a second message to the whole staff that the Thingamawhosis had been fixed but then it promptly broke again. So, just sweat, I guess.

It’s supposed to be in the mid-sixties tomorrow, which is one of those painful things where it’s sort of been winter for a little while and warm weather is going to feel nice but it is also terrifying because it’s fucking February and it’s not supposed to be in the mid-sixties, and the nice weather is a sign of the fucking world ending. One way or another, I’m wearing shorts, because fuck it, that’s why. I strongly suspect that wearing shorts to work will result in the Thingamawhosis not only already being fixed when I arrive, but magically working at higher capacity than normal for the entire day, resulting in the exact same kids who told me it was hot when they walked into my classroom every single class period, as if I didn’t already fucking know, coming in and complaining about being cold.

At least cold 8th graders smell a lot better than hot ones.

Ha ha ha ha ha never mind

So, yesterday was a day, and it is a hundred forty degrees outside and I have already spent about half my waking hours in the pool, and you may disregard the entirety of yesterday’s post because why would things like saying I would like to offer you this job mean that you get a job, and I’m just keeping my mouth shut from here on out until I have signatures on shit.

I am tired and overheated and spent most of yesterday in an exceptionally bad mood and all I want to do today is play video games and not catch on fire.

Man do I wish I had been born in any generation other than the one that literally ended the world.

We’re all gonna die

Earth_on_Fire_Animated_global_warmingOctober 3rd.

5 PM.

Eighty-eight fucking degrees outside.

And they turned off the fucking coolers in all the buildings because “it’s Fall.”

It is a miracle no one died in my building today, for a variety of reasons.

In which reality and Twitter are both dumb

Screen Shot 2016-07-20 at 6.53.10 PM.png

So seeing this tweet from Kirsten Gillibrand got me all het up at first.  There is no way in the universe that Citizens United is going to be overturned in Hillary’s first 30 days in office.  It’s a literal impossibility.  Even with the most compliant Congress of all time, it’s not going to happen, because it can’t.  It would require either another court case to make its way through the system that would challenge United (but would likely not result in an overturn, since the court’s not that much different now) or an actual amendment to the Constitution, which cannot happen in a 30-day timeframe.

I had the blog post composed almost immediately, all full of Dammit, if Trump said something this stupid it would be because he doesn’t know how the government works, but I know you know better, so this is just a lie and a bunch of other similar critical-of-the-person-I’m-voting-for sort of stuff.

Then I clicked on the link, which I had actually missed on my first read of the Tweet, because I was eating and distracted while looking at Twitter, and what Gillibrand means is that Clinton will call for an amendment during her first thirty days, and that the “working to overturn” will start within the first thirty days, not the actual overturn itself.  Which is a perfectly reasonable thing and while perhaps not politically possible is at least a thing that the President is capable of doing.

So there goes that post in a puff of “do your reading, asshole” and Twitter brevity.  Sigh.


I’ve paid no attention whatsoever to the Republican convention and don’t intend to start now.  So I have nothing to say about that.


I actually went and looked at a car this afternoon, and pretty much ruined the salesperson’s day by refusing to buy anything.  The 2017 Escape does ride really nicely, though, and while they offered me what I’m pretty sure actually represents a good deal.  He said I wasn’t allowed to take the offer sheet they gave me home with me, but then left me alone with it for a few minutes so of course I took a picture, because seriously, dude, it’s 2016, don’t leave me alone with the damn thing if you don’t want me to have a copy.

Nonetheless, I will not be buying a car until I’m certain I can hand over the down payment in cash.  Which I can’t do just yet.  But maybe by wintertime?  We’ll see.


We’re supposed to see a 110 degree heat index on Friday, so all this is entirely moot, as the world will have caught on fire and I will have died by then.  So… I dunno, try to get laid in the next couple of days?  Because you may not have another chance.

Christmas Eve

The boy is watching the My Little Pony Christmas special, as is traditional.

Outside, all the trees are blooming, as is also trad–

 

Wait.

 

Fuck.

Miami (#FridayFictioneers)

Photo prompt copyright Dale Rogerson.
Photo prompt copyright Dale Rogerson.

“There.”

“What is it?”

“Desk chair, maybe. Plastic shell.  The metal might still be good.”

The scavvies pulled the chair out of the muck and tore it apart, discarding foam and fabric and setting plastic and metal aside.  There were whoops and hollers from both of them– the ball bearings in the wheels were intact, and a tension spring.  Sealed, so the salt hadn’t gotten them yet.

“What was this? Business district?”

“Maybe. Cheap chair; maybe from a house, before the Atlantic swallowed it.”

“Think there’s more?”

“We’ll look for another ten. Haven’t seen a sea snake yet.  I’m getting nervous.”

WORD COUNT: 100.


Friday Fictioneers is a weekly blog hop hosted by Rochelle. She posts a photo prompt then challenges readers to write a 100 word story inspired by the prompt. It’s a fun challenge. Give it a try! Check here for the info then write your story and post it, link up and enjoy the other stories!

I’M MELLLLTIIIIINNGGGGG and also on fire

Im-Melting-Feel-DesainStatistically speaking, it almost has to be happening somewhere: despite the fact that the rest of the world is slowly roasting, the temperature trend in the Great Lakes region has been distinctly cooler than usual for the last several years.  Our last two summers have been unusually mild, rarely even getting into the 90s, and our last two or three winters have been brutally cold.  It is July 18; to my knowledge we have not had a day even hit the upper 80s as a high yet, and the words “heat index” have not found reason to escape my lips thus far.  There haven’t even been that many days yet that have escaped the seventies.  I haven’t worn shorts more than once all summer.

It’s been glorious.

It will be over 100 degrees today between 1:00 and 7:00, and I have to work at OtherJob, which means I’ll be outside for at least two or three of those hours.  And it’s not like 98 degrees is gonna be much better; it’ll probably be 10:00 before the temperature descends into remotely livable territory.  And that’s not “Man, it’s been a hot summer” 100 degrees, it’s a twenty degree jump from what we’ve been used to.

Give my wife like a week to get used to the idea after I die, and then y’all can come over and divvy up my books.

NO I’M SERIOUS DO IT

It is 7:48 in the morning, it is supposed to be one billion degrees today with a humidity level of nine jillion, and I will have to spend half of my day outside.

Kill me.