You know it’s days like this that make me pray for winter. This humidity, it’s draining all the life out of me. There are so many things I want to do with my time, but it’s just too hot and clammy and stale and muggy. I can’t sleep at night, it’s too humid. I can’t get up in the morning, it’s too humid. I can’t sit and read during the day, it’s too humid. I can’t write on the computer at night, it’s too humid. I can’t even fucking watch TV ‘cause it’s _too fucking humid!!!_ I feel particularly rotten about the lack of writing, since there are some quite excellent ideas churning around in my brain at present. But in my brain they will remain, and deprived of my textual chocolate you will be, until it gets fresh enough for me to sit at the computer and actually _write the damn things_ with some degree of comfort.

Wed 16 Jul 2003 at 21:55   ·