I don't care who you are but whenever you meet someone and are stuck for something to say, the conversation always turns to the weather.
As much as it would surprise anyone who knows me, I have absolutely nothing to say so I am going to take this time to gripe about the weather.
I am usually a very positive person but summer is rushing to an end and I don't know where you live but here in the Pacific Northwest the weather stinks.
Since I have a positive attitude, every morning I wake up and expect to see the sun but instead it reminds me of downtown LA where the smog has to burn off before the sun can shine.
That's ok for LA where the sun shines all year round but here in Washington we only get about two months of sunshine to sustain body and soul for the year.
To add to my misery I work two 11 hour days a week so my days in the sun are even rarer.
While I complain about the lack of sunshine my husband and Mother-in law complain when it's too hot.
When the sun does come out they rush inside. Rick wants to close all the blinds and keep the house dark and cool. He is insane.
Our day starts like this: I get up about six am and throw open the shades while he grunts and shoves his face into the mattress until eight.
Then he gets up and closes the blinds to keep the heat out and then gets dressed for work. I walk right behind him and throw the blinds open again. If there is going to be any heat I want to enjoy every speck of it.
When I am at work and the sun finally does start to shine through the clouds I rush outside every opportunity I have. I stand in the parking lot with my head back and my arms out to let the sun seep into my bones.
My mother-in-law is related to her son. She can't stand the heat either. To her a 90 degree day is a little reminder of what hell will be like so she retires to the library to polish up on her religion.
I yell at her. "Come back outside, this is perfect walking around naked weather."
And it is. No breeze to raise even a hint of a goose bump.
I spend the day wondering if nudity would hinder the flow of traffic in front of the house while my husband and Mother-in-law cower inside cranking up the air conditioner.
At bedtime I put on flannel pajama's to endure the coming ice age. Rick can't breathe unless the air conditioner and the fan are going full throttle.
He throws his half of the heavy comforter that I insist we keep on our bed, plus the feather tick over me.
I obviously would do very well in hell because I am perfectly comfortable in my little sweat box.
The long and the short of this something about nothing is that no one is happy no matter what the weather is like and I am particularly disgruntled with the lack of sun.
As a personal favor if anyone out there is talking to Al Gore in the next few weeks will you please ask him to send some of his global warming down my way!