Un-sweetened

It's so hot in my room right now it's ghastly. I was hoping the high pressure system would grant us some reprieve from the day, but no. I spent the afternoon with Oma drinking mimosas and eating the most delicious pasta carbonara I have ever had in my life. My car is back in the shop for the rear wheel bearings again and the front strut. Oma asks why I don't buy a new car and give my dad the Cabrio. How nice of her to think I can afford that. I'm a single woman making pennies to pay a mortgage, HOA fees, three credit cards, home owners insurance, car insurance, cable/Internet, and the electricity. Not to mention gas, groceries, baby kitty, and money to go out and drink when I feel frisky. It's a wonder I can afford to live the way I do now besides even pretending like I could afford a new car. She's delusional, just like when she thought I could offer $104k for a condo with a $142k asking price. Just plain ridiculous. The heat! The heat...I'm listening to The Troggs "With A Girl Like You" and I want someone to kiss me on the mouth in this heat, just to do it. My windows are all open and I can hear so much happening in the night. Someone is watching Seinfeld and talking on the phone. There is also music, I don't know where from. I can smell food cooking and perfume. Baby K is licking my knee, probably the salt from my sweat. There is no breeze, just hot stagnate air. I think about East Canyon, Dimple Dell. How cool the water would feel, night air soothing my frazzled nerves. I can't wait to go camping. I can't wait to swim in the Pontneuf, soak in the cold spring. I have to remind myself it's only a few more weeks. You have never felt so clean and alive until you jump stark naked into a 40 degree cold spring on a 104 degree day; there simply is nothing like it. The water is clear and the pool is almost 20 feet deep. You can see all the way to the rocky bottom. I want to close my eyes and jump in, open them under water. The last time I was there we had swam naked for an hour and when I got out I cut my knee on the volcanic rock. I put my black jean skirt on and looked for something to clean the wound with. All we had was our clothing, a blanket and a bottle of vodka. I poured a little on the cut and bit my tongue through the burn. Those pictures of me are priceless I'm sure, topless in the grass, jean skirt riding up with a bloody knee and a bottle of vodka. One for the camping history books I suppose. 

It's hard being baby k with her best fur coat on in this heat.