Juggling Summer

(Sad aria playing softly in the background)

My A/C died for the second time this month.  Just happens to coincide with the spike in temperatures in South Florida.  The sweat police are after me.  When you’re already having hot flashes and night sweats, the last thing you want is an A/C on the fritz.

My house has two units.  So of course it has to be the unit that services my bedroom.  My solution – blast the house unit at 68 and hope some of the cool air migrates into my room.  My daughter is sleeping in flannel Sponge Bob lounge pants.  Yeah, well, she can pull up the covers.  I can’t take off my skin.

I’ve rarely seen my blood-thinner-taking hubby so happy.  He’d probably eat all his meals in the sweat lodge if he could.  Again I say, put on more clothes if you want but naked isn’t an option for me – the whole front of my house is glass, don’t want to make the neighbors and dog walkers hurl.  Or see the FedEx guy go screaming down the block.

It could be worse, I tell myself.  It could have been my computer.  Even though I have at least three back-ups at all times, including Carbonite, I still can’t live without my desktop and its 27-inch monitor.  Said monitor has a gremlin, flashes on and off at will and requires a gentle touch on the power button.  Still, I’ll nurse it along because I love it.  It even turns vertically so I can see two pages at once while I’m working.

Which brings me to my point (yes, I have one).  Do you get distracted more easily in the summer?  Is it kids?  Weather?  Activities?  Travel?  I’m always so amazed at how fast the summer flies by.  I don’t think there is a weekend all summer when we aren’t travelling or otherwise committed.  I’m not sure how that happens.  Sometimes I think the Sharpie writes things when I’m not looking.  Not good when I have to have 100 pages done by the end of June.

My solution . . . delegate.  Blood-thinner man can make the runs to the beach and for ‘dates’ to the movies.  He can handle a mall drop-off and pick-up.  He’ll just grumble.  He isn’t thrilled with the fact that our going-to-be-15 in two weeks daughter has a boyfriend.  Truth be told, he’s a nice kid.  He came to her end of year show with a bouquet of crazy daisies for her and has impeccable manners.  And I told him the rules – nothing below the neck or above the knee gets touched.  EVER.  He blushed, and then gave me a ‘yes ma’am’.  I think I put a healthy dose of fear in him.  I already gave my daughter the same lecture and girls being girls, she shot back with, “What about a hug?”  Smart-ass.  I just don’t want to use the phrase ‘baby daddy’ in my lifetime.  And I sure as hell don’t want to have to do it for a 15 year old.

So aside from policing this bout of puppy love and writing and travelling, I counted.  I have exactly 9 days that aren’t committed from May 25^th through August 15^th.  I think I need a wife.  Or an assistant.  Or both.

And speaking of the end of year . . . here's my daughter dancing on stage at Disney (she's the one upside down: