Happy Labor Day

What a hot summer we’ve had! Heat-warning hot. Hit-you-in-the-face-and-suck-your-breath-out hot. Zap your strength, blow open all of your pores, and leak you into a puddle of misery hot. Burn your hands on the steering wheel hot. Burrito hot. Old dog breath hot, the kind that’s humid and smelly and too close to your face until you feel like you either can’t breathe or don’t want to.

That kind of hot. So hot that when I went out to clean up dog poop, the dog didn’t bound up to accompany me, but refused to budge from the dark, air conditioned hallway and watched me instead with his droopiest hound dog face. And when I got out there, I discovered the poop had baked into little black poop-shaped charcoal briquettes.

And now that the weather is cooling and summer is considered to be over, I have one thing to say:

Over already??!

To live is to suffer, to survive is to find meaning in the suffering. ~Gordon A. Allport