And not even voluntarily.
It's October. Where I come from, that means cute sweaters and wool minis and opaque tights. Here, that means sunblock, boob sweat, and funny tan lines from sitting at the bus stop for thirty minutes because they changed the bus schedule and you still can't figure it out.
I used to think I was lucky if my mom didn't make me wear a fugly turtleneck under my 'enchantress' dress on Halloween (forget the year we all went as Spice Girls). But if the neighborhood kids show up at my door on the 31st wearing anything more than an underpants-only superhero costume, yeah, that'll be lucky.
Seriously, Texas? They told me that it would start getting cooler in October, but I have been LIED TO. My electric bill is still breaking the bank when at this time last year I was embarrassed to be the only one in the neighborhood who hadn't put her window units in the closet yet. (Those things are heavy, okay?) My outdoor cat who HATES me desperately wants to come in.
It was about 100° on Friday. And all I got was sass from anyone I complained to. Just wait 'til "winter" hits and it drops below 65°. We'll see who's a whiner then. Jerks.
To My Husband, After I’ve Had Babies
1 day ago