The heat index is rising up here in the loft office.
Which I much, much prefer to the winter alternative, when I’m forced to wear fingerless gloves and scarves and hats and four layers of sweaters for months on end.
I’ve got this somewhat-confused heat-handling system in this crazy self of mine and, instead of making me sweat, all this warmth makes me want to curl up and take a nap.
Which might be fine if I wasn’t a full-time freelance copywriter with work. to. do!!
But that’s not the worst of it. Now there’s another symptom too. For all of you Dr. Brad fans, here’s a juicy one for you. Apparently the heat is whacking out my hypothalamus, which is sending me the signal that I’m ravenously (RAVENOUSLY!! GET ME A HAMBURGER AND FRIES!! AND A WHOLE BOWL OF BUTTERED POPCORN!! AND THREE MORE MOJO BARS BEFORE I PASS OUT FROM HUNGER!!) hungry.
Even 30 seconds after I’ve just eaten.
When I’m clearly not ravenously hungry.
Oh my gosh, uncomfortable! And dangerous. I could eat us out of house and home – and turn myself into a bouncing beach ball of overeating.
So, in order to cool my starving/sleepy self down a bit, I got out the drill, the pliers, and assorted other tools to finally get my cute retro-ish fan (from Target) to actually work. Yes, I have other fans, but I’ve had a feeling that the placement and power of this one would make a big difference if I could ever get the dang thing working. Its cord has been trapped behind my screwed-to-the-wall office lockers for a year or two and it required quite a bit of disassembly and removal of stripped screws and general handiwomanness to retrieve.
But I did it!
And now the air is moving around the ceiling of the loft.
And I am so much cooler.
In a couple senses of the word, of course.
Although, still a bit warm.
by julie rybarczyk