Tuesday, September 07, 2004

heat, noise and bacon

My brain isn't completely up for communication of any form right now. And yet, here I sit, typing my boring nonsense for all to read. Christ, I'm tired.

I want to be sleeping in right now. I want to have my face pressed into the pillow on the left side of my bed with my feet hanging off the edge of the right side. I want to have the sheet pulled over my head and my arms wrapped around one of my cats.

Don't fucking wake me.

The office is quiet today. Most of our supervisors are still in Canada. The office manager has been wearing fancy, very uncomfortable-looking shoes lately. I wonder why on earth she would choose to do this in the warmest weather of the year. Isn't she worried that those slides are going to slip right off? Why, she could really hurt herself if she isn't careful. Crazy bitches. Fine, I understand wearing a skirt right now (although I'm still wearing jeans), but c'mon, heels? Why?! Haven't you people heard of flip-flops?

At least no one is wearing mandles. I thank the sweet lord for that.

Although manties would be fine...

I usually do not enjoy hot weather. I grew up with the stagnant concrete heat of Concord. The summer temperatures were often in the 100s. My rubber-soled Sabra Negevs would stick to the sidewalk, making it even harder to walk to the store. I didn't drive until the year before I left, so I grew to truly despise the summers there. Luckily, there were a lot of trees. I would hurry through the shadeless areas, then walk slowly under the trees. I had all the time in the world back then. I had no work ethic whatsoever and knew nothing of urgency. Nothing seemed to bother me. I lived between a Red Cross and a Mormon church, across the street from a high school. This is probably one of the reasons I love being able to hear the freeway in my current apartment.

But that's beside the point. The point is that I spent all of Sunday wandering through Mission and North Beach in the city with the sun bearing down on me and was sweating like crazy, along with everyone else, but was totally happy about it. I sat in La Rondalla midday with a glass of ice water pressed to my forehead before I ate a pretty fabulous bacon (bad Jew!) and tomato sandwich. I grossed out my friend Tim by dipping my french fries in the salsa. I had a Negra Modelo and still wasn't cooled off. Later in the day, we sat in Vesuvio, sweating with the other patrons while our waitress warned everyone not to try sitting upstairs, where the heat was sweltering and people were sticking to the chairs. But, as I finished my second Jim Beam and Coke, a slight breeze finally swept through the city to accompany us back to Montgomery Station.

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