Ah September. The kids are back in school, there is a line around the block at the Starbucks drive-through to get a PSL, and Phoenicians are sweating through thier clothing just walking to the mailbox and cursing fate for leading thier lives to this fucking hot desert where summer NEVER. ENDS.
After coming back from San Diego where we were able to jog along the beach every morning, have cocktails on the patio well, basically all day, and walk just about everywhere we wanted to go in Ocean Beach, let me tell you, coming back here to highs of 108 has not put a smile on my face.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m no California lover. Vacationing there is wonderful but you couldn’t pay me enough to deal with the traffic and taxes there on a regular basis.
But from talking to other long-term Phoenix residents, I sense that the emotions I’m feeling now are pretty standard. It’s been summer for six months now and we’ve worn holes in all of our Disney & Pixar DVDs because it’s too flippin’ hot to take the kid to the park.
Yes, I know, I know. We’ll be dining al fresco when the rest of civilization is shoveling out their driveways. That thought isn’t helping me right now while I sit here at work wondering if I really have to go home because that will mean walking outside to get to my car.
How did human beings ever come to live here????