It is hot. Duh. Hot. Tomorrow at 4 p.m. it is going to be 104. At least. And, really, this is nothing new. One hundred degree (all day) heat has been pretty much the norm this summer. Not that one gets used to ‘normal’ around here. Instead of using negative words like ‘oppressive’, ‘ridiculous’, or ‘disgusting’, to describe our environs, I’m using the term ‘motivating’.
Texas heat motivates me to get out of Texas. I’m going to Scotland. I have frequent flier miles. And friends in Scotland. So I’m going. I cashed in the miles, and got my ticket for November. I’m going to celebrate Thanksgiving in Aberdeen with good friend from seminary, Alisa, and hopefully also see Donovan, another dear PTS friend–I’m either going to make him come up to Aberdeen, or give in and go down to St. Andrews for a bit. I hear murmurings of other misplaced patriots in the UK. My passport has been lazy and needs a workout. So, yeah.
The hotter it gets, and stays, the more I realize that I have to get out of here. The summers here are just not good for me (or my interactions with others). Perhaps that sounds a tad dramatic, but consider it reverse Seasonal Affective Disorder. I need some rain, some grey, some clouds, some cold. Therefore, my logic tells me that excess heat equals motivation to finish comps, write dissertation and find a job as far north and as close to water as I can possibly get.