Tuesday 24 July 2012

Melting

It is too damn hot. No, let me rephrase that: it is

too

damn

hot

and I can't even get out of my chair. I mean, if I was this hot normally? I'd go and get myself a cold glass of soda. It's not the coolness of the drink that's the big draw there, even though that's what really makes the difference. It's the ritual of it. You get your glass and you fiddle around with the freezer drawers until you've unfrozen them (I'm never sure if that's ironic, although I strongly suspect that it is), so you can pull out the ice-cube tray. Then you spend forty seconds of wet-finger-on-plastic incompetence trying to get out a single fucking cube of ice, and when one finally does loosen you were pressing the bottom too hard and it skids out underneath the dresser on a trail of profanity.  So you take it and slam it down hard against the counter so too much ice loosens all at once, and you just put it all into the glass like you planned on a lot of ice, actually, like you're in the mood for some extra ice. Because it's so fucking hot. Then you get the soda and you pour it in, and miracle of miracles- soda fizzes when it hits ice, dingus, so now it's fizzed all over the edge of the glass and it's everywhere and you not only have to clean it up and where the fuck are the paper towels anyway but you also have to spend a full ninety seconds delicately coaxing more soda into the fizz machine of your ice-clogged glass, six tiny drops at a time, until it's full.

And then you drink it.

Nothing legal should feel that good.

It wouldn't feel so good if you hadn't gone through the whole sweaty incompetent adventure of getting the drink in the first place, is my point, so I'm thinking maybe I'm not in so much trouble. I'll cool down eventually and I figure what's happening to my fingers is like wax, right? You've got to wait for it to get cool and harden up before you pick it away from anything otherwise it just gets spread everywhere in a big half-liquid mess. I tried lifting my hand a few minutes ago and I could see my skin had gone wrong, long bubble-gum strands stretching from my palm to the wet pink handprint on the desk. I've just got to stay still and cool down, let everything- let it resettle. Then move when it's nice and cool. I could shout for help, I think, but I'm feeling so sticky I don't want to try and pull my lips apart. I think I'd freak out a bit. So, eyes closed, and wait to cool down.

I'm feeling more relaxed already.

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