My Achilles’ Heel

It’s not the heat, it’s the humidity. I hate it. Sure I know that without moisture in the air we in Minnesota wouldn’t enjoy as many wonderful lakes. But I hate it. And I know that our lawns would be a lot browner. But I still hate it. And I know that we’d have to buy a lot more skin cream (well, you can count me out there), but I still absolutely despise the heat when it’s linked with an oppressive humidity. As the dew point rises my good-natured-ness starts to disappear. I become a real tyrant. I get grumpy and irritable and cranky and mad and discouraged and grouchy and depressed and angry and annoyed and short-tempered and sweaty. I can’t wear my glasses as the sweat drips onto the lenses; and even if they didn’t, they would fog up anyways.

I suppose if I were sitting by a lake, the humidity wouldn’t bother me. But as the humidity becomes oppressive, my workload always mounts and I try to push myself. To no avail, though, I still get further and further behind. So I curse the saturated air and wonder why I travail through it, when it should rather properly be cut with a knife. Did I mention that I really, really, really hate the heat and humidity of July and August? Whine, whine, and more whine. I can’t help myself. I hate it.

Right now as I type this in an air-conditioned office, I have trouble engaging the passion that I felt earlier today. The words I write are tame and mellow compared with how I felt earlier today and yesterday and the day before yesterday and the day before that and so on. I’m sick and tired of having to work in this unbearable weather inside enclosed spaces with no A/C and no chance for much air movement at all.

But enough said. If I continue the rant, I’ll probably say what I really think. For now I should be grateful that I have an escape. I get to come home at the end of the day. And I have a home which has A/C. And the house comes with a wife that loves me and usually has supper ready for me. And I have a shower with hot and cold water. And if I use it after becoming really smelly during the day, the WTLM will even sleep next to me.

So in the grand scheme of things, I’m very blessed. I should count my blessings, show some gratitude, and quit whining. I could be off far from home, serving our country, or working for some impersonal corporation, having to endure airplanes and airports, etc.

So pardon my whine, but I hope it helps me this January as I munch on my cheese and crackers, and try to keep my self from frostbite. And maybe as I dream of blizzards (the real ones), I’ll protect my feet and keep my Achilles’ heel from becoming an Achilles’ hell.