...it'll be nice to finally cool off a bit (although it does sound a bit nasty). Because, you see, nothing is hotter than my apartment. I can't really explain why the apartment is so hot, but odds are it is due to one of two reasons:

• The have relocated the Serengeti to the Corner of Grace and Wayne in a cost cutting measure
• My apartment is 30% closer to the Sun than all other points on Earth.

Either way, I sweat. I sweat if I move and I sweat if I remain still. It is a disgusting existance I lead. However, it is not all bad. Let me break it down into the Pro's and Con's of living in the 9th Circle of Hell:

Pros:

• Cooking Hamburgers has never been easier. Just set them on the kitchen counter for 5 minutes on each side and you are good to go. No need to fire up the grill.
• The constant layer of moisture coating my body has eliminated the need for bathing.

Cons:

• The Wife has set up a ten foot "No, it's too hot" buffer zone.
• Nice, restful sleep has been replaced by no sleep and creeping insanity.

An interesting side effect of the heat has been confirmation that, even were cats to develop opposable thumbs, they would still be - at best - gas station attendants at your local BP. Contrary to popular belief, cats have little chance at world domination (now dolphins...that's another story) because, you see, cats are very, very dumb. Our poor, little cat has either a) melted or b) lost the will to live - I'm not sure which.
And I can't blame her, seeing as how she's trapped in a furry hell of nature's design. Really though, she couldn't possibly be making it worse on herself. She seems to seek out the places in the house with the worst ventilation and just lays on the floor (which has approximately the same surface temperature as our George Forman Lean Mean Grilling Machine). And suffers. Her favorite rooms appear to be the bathroom (a.k.a. "the suffocation chamber") and the kitchen, especially right next to the oven (but only if it is on). And so, being very lovely people, we move her. We will move her to the window sill or next to a fan. It seems like she should like the window sill as she gets a (relatively) cooling breeze with the added benifit of a scenic view (I've often heard cats love a nice view). However, a minute later, she is right back on the floor being all hot and crabby. My personal belief is that she is intentionally torturing herself to work off whatever bad karma has brought her into this life as a kitty in our tiny, hot Chicago apartment.

At this point, you might be asking yourself "Why doesn't this guy just buy and Air Conditioner?" Seems like a bit of a personal question, considering you probably have never met me, but I'm a good sport so I'll answer. The answer, of course, is that I'm a cheap, cheap bastard (and poor too! Wee!). Currently, my utilities bills are really quite low and I just can't bring myself to install an AC unit, thereby doubling my electric bill.

Now, this logic breaks down if you consider the fact that, in order to escape my little hell on earth, I will head out to most anyplace that has air conditioning. Movies, bars...wherever.

(*shrugs*)

But who needs logic when you've got unbearable heat and inflated bar tabs.