4:30 this morning: neighbor dog is outside and starts barking. My dog lets out an inquiring bark/growl/question-noise series. (I love her question-noise, although I prefer it at hours other than 4:30 a.m. I love having a dog who asks things.) I check. She either drank all her water or knocked it over. I get her more. You know that 4:30 a.m. thing it does all summer, where it finally cools off and you have to grope around half-asleep for the duvet? It has not done that.
5:30 this morning: I accept that sleep is not coming back to me ever again. Achy, nauseated, exhausted, and dizzy, I get up. I look at the to-do list and think, "You have got to be kidding me." Actually that's not all I think, but we can keep this "family-friendly" for the moment, right?
6:00 this morning: it finally, finally, finally starts raining. Which means that when I do let the dog out, she will become hyperbeast after having been out in the rain. Well, at least hyperbeast will cool off a bit.
Right now I have hopes of getting a nap in and being good for something other than a paperweight at some point. Maybe.
Every couple of months, we are required to utter the phrase, "But it's [month]! And this is Minnesota! Why is it [unseasonable weather]?" And the answer is, it always does. There's always a day in January when it thaws or nearly thaws; there's always a day in July when you have to wear a jacket; there's always a day in October when you think, "Maybe if I moved just a little further north, it would never get this @#$&% hot for me again. Like Gjoa Haven. That ought to be far enough. If not, I hear Resolute is lovely this time of year." In some ways it's comforting that this status quo is maintained, but I'll be glad when the maintenance is done for another month or so.