It Is Summertime, And The Heat Is Oppressive. But Hey, We're All Riding The Streetcar Together

I woke at 2am last night. Bing! Awake! I looked at my watch, it was going to be a long night, I thought. The fan blew directly on me. The sheet covered part of me. It's unusual for me, I normally sleep no matter what. 

I’d had unsettling dreams and I was awake. There was the usual one of failing at school. I hate that dream. Then I lay in bed thinking about work. I pulled the sheet over me, the fresh breeze blowing on me. The back of my head wet, the pillow damp, moist pillowcase, smelt of sweat. I was wondering if I was employable? What do I know?

I dwelt on all the things I couldn’t do, all the things I couldn’t offer a potential employer. Until I thought I was going to go mad lying there in the heat. It's funny how dark things can seem in the middle of the night, when you are unable to sleep. My forehead beaded. My t-shit stuck to me.

It felt like I was never going to get back to sleep. When I did I had more dreams. I’m sure there was one with Chelsea Brown in it, wearing a dark suit with white cuffs and collar. She was telling me to strike a pose. I woke again. It was still hot. I tossed and turned. It was still dark outside, so I knew it was still the middle of the night. The bedding felt damp. The air thick. Sam snored next to me. I turned. I turned again. The sheet stuck to my wet back. My leg slid out from under the cotton material, the fresh fan air felt cold. The fan blades whirred. I hate the heat, I thought.

Then I dreamt of not being employable.

I woke again, ah, what seemed like not long after, but the dark was breaking into light, the curtain of black had been pulled back somewhat and I could tell it was nearly time to get up, morning was here. The alarm sounded. Sam nudged me. "Get up. Did you sleep well?"

"Kind of."

It was going to be hot again today, so we left Buddy inside.

It felt hot at 8am as I left the house. What did they say, it is going to be 300 degrees all week?

 

When I came out of work at the end of the day, I don’t think I have ever felt greater heat. Whoosh! It felt like walking into an oven.

I got home and Buddy was lying beside our bed next to the fire place. He was hot. He was panting.

We had KFC for dinner, the $9 nine piece Tuesday special. We went to Woolies first. I wanted to go to KFC first, but Sam insisted. As he says, he is always right.

At least we didn’t have to cook… which is a little disingenuous, as it is Sam who cooks.