Hot! Hot! Hot!

It’s 10 o’clock in the morning, early in June and it’s already 92 degrees outside. And THEY’re (and we all know who THEY are) promising us 100 by this afternoon—aren’t we lucky? We went from a May when we needed to turn the heat on for several days, to a June that is ‘August at the Equator’ hot.

But what are you gonna do? It’s weather. We bitch about winter, rain, wind and the heat. And folks have probably been cursing cold fronts and barometric pressure since long before we knew what they were. We know our tirade doesn’t change anything. At the end of our rant, do we get an endorphin rush? A feeling of contentment? That “So there!” third grade finality that’s feels like having the last word? But for all its ineffectiveness, it seems like complaining just makes you feel better—or does it?

THEY’re also promising that this mini-heat wave will end by midweek and temps will settle into the 80’s.

But right now--it’s still hot.
The bad news: Donna does not have A/C
The good news: Virginia does.