I can't even...

I hate the heat. I hate it so much. I can't even... I can't even tell you.

So, it's Friday night and I'm done with my paying work. I usually take this time to try to get some early work done on the house. Let me set the scene for you. The future library is full of crap. Along the front wall is scrap metal I've been wanting to send off with some scrap metal dealer. On top of that is some wood covered in lead paint with big ass nails sticking out. Long pieces of plyboo lean against this pile of crap. Across the middle of the room is a large plank of plyboo that I've been using as a level surface to piece together other plyboo into a shelf. Cans of paint and water and large batteries and anything heavy sits on top to help keep it flat. This blocks most of the entryway to the room. And other odds and ends like a coat rack and ladders and pipe litter the floor.

It's warm and still inside despite several days of rain and fans trying to blow the cool air into the house. Within 10 minutes of getting off the couch I am dripping sweat on everything. Sweat is supposed to be there to evaporate and cool us off, but it's failing that completely. It makes my clothes stick to me. The heat makes working my muscles require more energy and focus for the simplest task. And while some people think I have an unshakable temper, all that goes away when I'm hot. Since it's harder to move I'm more likely to make mistakes which causes the temper to explode.

I step over the boards to open the window and cool things off. As I'm stepping back I can't get my leg high enough and hit the paint can. It tips and dumps paint all over the floor. Obscenities fly. I grab a dust pan and start scooping the paint back into the can. Paint is everywhere. Most of it is on parts of the floor that still need scraping, but there's much that is in areas that are supposed to be cleaned. And it's getting between boards, which will never clean out. My best hope for much of it is that there's so much dust and debris that it'll clean off easily without excessively difficulty once dry. And where's the lid? Where's the LID?! WHERE'S THE [obscenities edited for length] PAINT CAN LID!!!!?! It's gone. Not really sure how that's even possible. It's not a large room. The boards are off the ground high enough that I could see the lid under there if it were there. It's just gone. Well, I'll use the lid off this other can that I refilled with water. It doesn't fit? HOW CAN IT NOT FIT?! It's the SAME paint from the SAME brand bought on the SAME &*$#@%^ DAY! Fine, I'll just let the paint dry out and throw the whole gallon away. I'm literally dripping sweat onto the paint from my eyes and nose and eyebrows and I'm trying not to start shrieking in rage and ... I'm getting the fan. Take off the paint covered shoes so I don't track paint across the filthy carpet. Get the fan and the extension cord which will try to knock over everything in the living room as I move it and somehow even knock over things upstairs which should be impossible since the cord doesn't even go up there. Why then? Because it's HOT and this shit happens when it's HOT! The extension cord isn't even this big of a problem in the living room when it's cooler. So I set up the fan and point it directly at me. Feels good, man. Until it falls over for no damn reason. Set it up. Back to the paint. New rag, wipe, toss, repeat every 5-10 seconds. This plastic caught some of the paint. Let's cut it off and throw it away. NO FAN! You can't tip over. I haven't even done it, yet! At least let me do something to cause you to fall over even though it shouldn't. Cut away the plastic. Try to pick it up without dumping paint on the ground or on the plyboo. No paint! If you go on the plyboo I will end you and all civilization! Do NOT EVEN THINK I AM KIDDING! Wow, I made paint move with the force of my rage. I am the Kwisatz Haderach. Maybe that's where he got his power. He was so fucking pissed to be trapped on a hot shit hole of a world like Dune. Paint in bag. Set fan back up. Wash hands a second time. Set fan back up. Mop up paint. Take tension straps off board. Set fan back up. Yes, there are feet on the fan. It's just trying to blow air that's extra dense because it's full of water. Let me put the fan in the window. But first, let's try to untangle the extension cord. Let's drag the wiring out in the rain where it's cooler and do it there. Bad idea, you say? IT'S COOLER! IDON'TCAREIFIDIE! Spend 10-15 minutes in the rain untwisting extension cord. Put fan in window pointed at me. Flip the shelf and sand away the excess glue. Stand before the fan. Should the sand paper get so hot after only six strokes that I need to set it down? I moved 6 inches to the right, gotta get back in front of the fan. That doesn't seem right. The board looks less than ideal, but the glue is gone and I can clean up the edge later. Be sure to stand in front of the fan. Let's get this debris in the car so I can take it to the dump in the morning. Hello to you too, strange drunk man. Nope, I'm not moving, just getting ready to go to the dump. Actually, do you know a scrap metal scavenger? Across the street? That's his truck? Ok, all my scrap metal goes in this pickup and nail filled lumber in my car. Trash bag covered in drying paint can come out in the morning. I get in my car and turn the AC as low as it will go. Literally five seconds later my breath manifests itself before my face. I love my car and it's AC. I sit there and reprogram the address book in my GPS while I bathe in the direct blasts of the air conditioner. My skin starts to crack and pull from the drying sweat. I finally get out of the car and the windows all fog up instantly. One more large piece of metal to put in the pickup. He thanks me and I thank him. New route is now open to the fan. I take it out of the window and lock up. I take a cold shower. Cold being a generous term.

It's not even that hot inside or out. I just can't cool down. I run very hot. My metabolism is high. But I can cool down if it's dry enough for sweat to evaporate. I need moving air. I designed my bedroom so I have a ceiling fan pointing right at me at night. I shouldn't need the AC in that room most of the time so long as the fan is running.