Wishful

Several consecutive days of excessive heat, a tiresome and rather disappointing trip to the stores, and a foreshortened period of sleep last night, have conspired to leave me exhausted and befuddled. It's possible that my fairly high recent consumption of sugar, mostly in the form of iced drinks, has contributed to my state, but said consumption being a byproduct of the excessive heat I shall blame that on the heat as well. I should perhaps go back to drinking unsweetened, iced, decaffeinated tea with a bit of half and half in it.

Whatever the cause, I find myself lacking the energy to otherwise discuss the weather, the birds I saw this afternoon, the unwillingness of the overheated feral cats to give any attention to said birds, the coming of dusk, the lack of any specific plan for dinner, or the fact that English people will begin murdering one another on television within the hour. I am, in short, pooped, and I'll be lucky if I don't fall asleep hungry in the midst of the upcoming video slaughter and never find out who done it. Oh, heat! Will you not leave us be?


( Wishful Sunday Verse )