Alright, fine. It was a pineapple popsicle. Rupert Holmes didn’t mention popsicles though, so that title didn’t flow as well.
I was eating a pineapple popsicle yesterday because it has been ridiculously hot.
Hot weather is not for me.
I appreciate a nice beach and the sunshine as much as the next girl, but I’m from the cold North. Surviving the heat is a huge accomplishment for me.
My dog also dislikes the heat. Possibly because she’s covered in fur and absorbs sunlight. My sink is constantly running just to refill my water bottle and her bowl. Helpfully, she drinks about a third of the water she’s given and drips the rest around the floor.
One of my problems with this heat wave is my work uniform.
If there’s one thing I love about summer it’s the ability to wear almost no pants most of the time. Shorts are my favorite article of clothing.
You cannot wear shorts as an EMT. Which makes sense, but that’s hard to remember when I’m walking around in navy blue cargo pants and work boots. Luckily, our uniform shirts are white, not navy. Unluckily, that means we get to wear two shirts. Work shirt and undershirt. All day. In the sun.
If our air conditioner ever breaks at least my coworkers can save me from heat exhaustion.
To anyone from the South rolling their eyes, I know. You’re stronger than I am.
My one salvation is thunderstorms. After the humidity crushes me all day, I’ll drive home and watch the clouds roll in. I let the dogs out, change into jean shorts, and wait for the storm to break and bring a beautiful cool breeze.
Cold wind would be better, but I manage.
Yesterday, the clouds rolled in with the cool breeze. Hallelujah.
The rain stayed north of us and I worked on vacuuming sheetrock dust off my (soon to be) bedroom floor.
After a few hours, sticky and tired from working in the attic, Aro and I went outside for our evening walk. The sky was overcast but the air was cooler and I was happy. We weren’t walking too far and I figured if it started to rain we’d get a little misty on the way home before it poured.
Was I ever wrong.
North Dakota is dry and I tend to forget Minnesotans don’t measure their rain in hundredths of an inch.
I heard the rain start north of us and a minute later it was coming down in sheets. Turning back to the house and kicking off my sandals, Aro and I ran the three blocks home.
It was pouring rain, it was freezing, and it was glorious.
Sometimes I do have to appreciate summer.