The hot house

We are expecting a heat wave starting today; a steady 35C (95F). With any luck it will be enough to burn off some of the humidity, which is a vile thing. It is the humidity which sucks the life out of you not the actual heat. The thing is heat is a relative thing to what you are used to and although one comes from places that snow (a cold one loved to be honest) the heat is definitely preferred.

There is no joint or muscle pain at this time of the year. The hip doesn’t freeze up during sex. For the record there are some types of pain that even this body can’t process into a better orgasm. That hip going just stops everything... dead. You end up collapsing into a screaming heap of coitus interruptus L

Of course there is a downside to all this brilliance... isn’t there always. When one first came here it was like walking around in a hot house. And just like one of those exotic plants one bloomed into a perpetual state of arousal. It was short lived... rather like those flowers (which are modified leaves and often appear similar to their origins).

Now 22 years on, and thanks to the damned PCOS nearly 30kg heavier, it feels less exotic and far more unpleasant. Oh the arousal is still there, but it is tempered with the knowledge that touching another person is slightly repellent. Humans are not so attractive when they are moist all over... and hot to touch. Shudders and scampers off to the air-conditioned comfort of the bus ride to work.