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Picking up some odds and ends at my mother's house tonight, I caught sight of myself in the mirror and casually remarked to her how much my face had changed lately. I looked older. And she said to me “My son, with every minute that passes and breath you take, you draw inexorably closer to death.”

A pretty typical worldview for anyone who has had to spend the last few days here without benefit of air conditioning. It is HOT. It is beastly hot, and the only thing that is more extreme than the heat is the humidity. We are all of a sudden become one giant steam room, thick curdled air that sneaks in to every corner of the house, and no end in sight. I try to go running in the mornings, and within half a mile find myself trailing a long plume of deerflies that take turns working themselves into my hair. Great for speedwork, the deerflies.

The cats have collapsed into a furry heap of misery, and their follicles have all popped open at the same time, filling the house with cat hair. I stay at the office as long as I can, blessed A/C, and then come home to sweat.

« I Discover Edward TufteScandal At Nathan's Hot-Dog Eating Contest »

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