Blame it on the weather

I always knew I was allergic to winter, but what I have recently discovered is that summer is not my thing either. I love the sunny 70’s , but a little heat wave can make me not only hot but also hot-tempered. I become slow, slow-witted, under-slept and over-caffeinated. I have zero tolerance for slightest imperfections and inconveniences. Ironically, those come in bunches when the temperatures hit 90’s. For example, last week I got to wait at the doctor’s office for an hour just to hear that I would have to reschedule after all. Or I would bring the boys to a park with sprinklers just to see that they are off on Tuesdays. Not cool. Just as not cool as my assumption that one lady I was chatting with at a park was a grandma. She was a mom. Speaking of being a mom. Extreme weather is not in my favor.  It does not help me being a good mom. I overreact, dramatize, yell, cry… with or without a reason. I’m too hot to hang out by the stove so I feed my children take-out and ice-cream. I let the boys watch an extra episode to prolong my ice-coffee break. Mea culpa!

This week is a bit cooler and I’m slowly reviving. The fact that I’m writing this post proves that my brain has stopped melting and resumed thinking.  And what I’m thinking is that next year I’m going to enter the summer heat-wave more prepared.  I’m planning to hire a full time housekeeper for my family and send myself on a cooling vacation to Alaska. The only thing I need is to land some lucrative publishing deal to afford such extravaganza. If I don’t, I will have to go with a cheaper version of my plan and buy myself a statement T-shirt: “Blame it on the weather!”