Okay, I Have Officially Had It.

August in Texas sucks.
It's 93º outside and hotter than habanero peppers. I don't know why 93 seems so hot this summer, but it does. It's usually 100º by this time of year.
I did a little experiment. I turned off the a/c and fan in my office, and immediately my fucking face began to smoke like I was about to spontaneously combust. I could barely make the trip across the rug to turn it all back on.
Something got into me today and I started craving spaghetti and meatballs.
I happen to make great meatballs, but the thought of turning on the stove to cook was so sickening to me, I ended up calling an Italian joint and ordering some to pick up.
Then the thought of going outside to drive in a steaming hot car to get it was so smothering, I ordered it delivered.
So my plan now is to just have people bring me food until late September.
I am hot and fussy and I want what I want when I want it and that's all there is to it.
I don't need a hug, it's too fucking hot to be hugged.
Besides, women drive me fucking crazy, all of them.
All I want is a cool breeze and a plate of spaghetti and meatballs. And garlic bread.