When it's 92 degrees at 7 p.m., you know the house isn't going to cool off overnight. The unrelenting heat (yeah, okay, so it's a "dry heat" and I'm only half as miserable as I'd be with 90% humidity) has already put Lazarus and me in bad moods, and now that I've unwrapped his grubby fingers from around the computer mouse cord he's definitely not getting any happier. And all those cute summer baby clothes I have sitting in his dresser -- we just have no use for them, though I probably should make him some super-lightweight pants so he can scoot around more comfortably.
As for sleeping, it happens, even in the heat:
While I'm bitching... I just found out that my three-day break from dear husband and stepdaughter will not happen after all. See, they were going to drive up to Denver so Johnnie could see Grampa and other relatives, but Antonio decided at the last minute not to go. I tried not to look devastated or pissed off... I love my family dearly but sometimes I just need time to myself. Lazarus doesn't count as "family burden" -- he's my little buddy and even on hot cranky days like this I love having him around. If I didn't have an article due on Wednesday, I'd pack him up and hit the road myself. *sigh*
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