July 21, 2006

• Hot

  It’s hot.

  It’s a normal Houston summer day, but I’m in Seattle and there’s no A/C. The little thermometer I have in my room says 89. I would go down into the basement, but there’s literally no place to sit; my landlord has covered the futon in the reading room with printing supplies which I dare not touch.

  I sat at the bottom of the stairs to read for a while, but the dog kept thinking I was about to go out, and so got all excited and wouldn’t quiet down.

  She’s a yellow lab. She has an undercoat and thick fur. She’s really hot, but not smart enough to realize she should be in the basement. She comes up stairs when I do. I’m thinking about shutting her in one of the rooms down there, but then she’ll be even more miserable, cut off from the only person around.

  She has two motivations: 1) Get me to go outside and play catch with her, and 2) Get me to give her a dog biscuit. If going downstairs to be cool fits one of those motivations, then she’ll do it. Otherwise it’s a lost cause. She’s panting, and still she gets the ball to try to lure me outside.

  I’m drinking lemonade and waiting for the UPS truck. W00t.

  • 6:44 pm
  • 5 Comments