Today is September 8, and the temperature at 6 AM is 75 degrees, and it is supposed to go into the low 90s.
I am never aware of how enervated I am in hot weather. I think I am perfectly fine until it cools down and I look back at my output during the hot spell. A little bit of writing, two short story submissions. As little housework as possible.
Even in the cooler mornings, dog walks are all less than a mile.
I feel perfectly fine, not a thing wrong, my window air-conditioned works just fine, and I am comfortable here at the computer with my glass of ice tea.
In bed, the window AC is too noisy and I can't seem to control the direction the cool air is blowing. My big window fan broke and I had to replace it with a noisy one.
No wonder September is my favorite month. I come back to life. September has always been my most productive month.
In June I participated in a 250 words per day challenge. I wrote every day except two, and made it over the limit every writing day but one. I worked on a couple of projects. I wrote a short story and submitted it for publication, I picked up a novel I had put down to work on The Case Book of Emily Lawrence. I wrote a birthday story for a friend. Then the hot weather and a screeching halt to pretty much everything.
I went to work as required. Two days a week, air-conditioned. Stuff I like to do.
Each week I accomplish two writing assignments, my blog and a letter to my sister. I did manage the letter but the blog was spotty at best.
The worst thing about the heat is the things I forget. While I am of an age to become forgetful, I have always has always made a tendency toward inattention. I have spare car keys stashed around because I come in and put mine down without thinking. Then later I don't know where I put them. The worst this year was buying a three pack of mouth wash, taking one out and using it. When I tossed the bottle, I had no idea where I had stashed the other two. They will turn up when I start looking for places to hide Christmas presents.