Something happens when the temperature turns ninety-nine degrees. The world becomes hotter than humans.

Yesterday was the earliest 100-degree day in Albuquerque history. It was June 5th. The old record was June 7th. Not a huge difference or example of global warming, but it was hot.

Of course, it's a dry heat. This is a nice way of saying 'It could be worse.' Yes, it would be worse with humidity. It would also be worse with 50 m.p.h. winds. It could always be worse. It could be Phoenix.

I was going to get something done. I was going to put some clothes on. I was going to take a shower. Right now, I am lazy, naked & sweaty. This will change. Right now.

...

Okay. It's half an hour later. I wiped the blades on the ceiling fan, carried the portable air conditioner to the baby's room, shaved, showered and put on shorts. Now, I am productive, clean & half-naked. Take your accomplishments where you can get them when it's this hot.

Later today, I get to direct. It's a short play amidst six other short plays in a festival aptly named The Seven. Today, I get to dry tech during the heat of the day, and wet tech and run through in the evening. That's just theatre jargon for adding technical elements to a play and running the show. Every year, the audience selects which play they like the best. My play is a creepy play about photography emulsion and aliens set in the 1950s. It will not win any awards, but it's still fun to direct. Even in the heat.

I could have gone to a party that my wife was at last night after directing, but it was almost eleven when I was done at the theatre. Instead, I came home, drank a bottle of red wine and lay on the floor until she arrived. I hadn't done that in a long time. The heat makes you do strange things. So does directing.

We were going to go to breakfast this morning, but it already felt too hot. We settled for home-brewed coffee, Vietnamese take-out leftovers, and making love. It was almost too hot for all those things, but we still got it done before noon. My wife will pick up our daughter later today from Grandmama's, and we will tell her nothing of what transpired will she was gone. She might notice the air conditioner in her room.

The heat has no plans of calming down until mid-week. I will have two days in the cab and two nights at the theatre by then. I hope my play is truly creepy by then. I hope I don't melt in the cab by then.

It's not even truly summer yet. Of course, the end of every season resembles the next, so this is right on time. It's June, and that means it can get as hot as it wants.

I'm not a scientist. I don't know about global warming. I do know we spew way too much nasty crap into the air & ground & water. If our punishment is too roast a little bit more, then so be it. We did this to ourselves.

Enough of this typing. It's too hot to type or string any coherent thoughts together. Because this is how it came out. And how is this supposed to help anyone? We all know it's hot. We all know what happens to us when we get hot. We all know we have no control over it.

We also know it will cool down some day. Hooray!

Chris Jungle cooks without food.