Too hot to think

Something about the summer makes me anxious. I think it's the humidity and lack of comfort therein. Jane Austen said that the heat "leaves me in a constant state of inelegance" and I couldn't agree more. DC has a particularly hideous breed of summer and it's left me craving the frion blast from my central A/C with a little more fervor than usual. In short, I have become insular. Are you really fun to hang out with? Do we have an amazing time everytime we hang out? If you answered, "no" to either of these questions than I probably haven't seen you in awhile. I am battening down the hatches for some hardcore alone time.

Not that I know why, all I know is that unless you make a very compelling argument I am not likely to be swayed from my couch/bed/comfy chair/good book to hang out. I go through these periods every so often--where I crave time with myself to chill, read, sit and stare into space. This much alone time makes me feel alternately lonely and happy that I can actually be alone for such extended periods of time.

That doesn't mean I couldn't use a respite every now and again. I'm not a monk.