Hot and Cold
My husband and I have been married almost twenty-six years. In fact, in about 13 days, it will be 26 years exactly. I remember the day very well..June in Texas. Hot. Humid (in fact, it rained earlier in the day of our evening wedding)...I was young. And thin.
Quite thin, in fact. I weighed 124 the day we married and I am almost 5'10". I remember weighing myself and thinking "Wow, I'm getting fat". The hollow laughter that accompanies me when I tell that story to my kids speaks for itself.
DH was thin and fit too. Who isn't when they are 22 and 24, fresh out of (or almost fresh out of) college with their whole lives (and several pregnancies) ahead of them? We routinely finished off large pizzas, followed by--yes--powdered sugar donuts from the 7/11, all downed by some huge sugar-filled soft drink. (Married we might have been, mature we were not). That was dinner. Breakfast was...non-existent, followed by some huge burger-and-fries-filled-fest for lunch. Late night? Shakes of course, made in our wedding-gift blender from K-Mart.
And you know what? I don't remember being hot. Texas was hot. I felt hot after a couple of sets of tennis. Sometimes the junky car I drove with NO a/c made me sweat. A little. But mostly, I remember just feeling "fine". Or, actually... cold....(well, as Perfect Daughter would sarcastically put it..."Mom, those teeny strappy things you wore in 1980-something were bound to keep you chilly...").
Fast-forward 26 years. There is not not only much more of me to love (as opposed to maybe 10 more pounds of DH to love), there are hormones coursing through my body that make me my own little heater. Or, my own large heater. No matter how you put it, that cold feeling is long gone. I'm hot. I'm hot. I'm hot.
We just received the highest electric bill we've ever had. $350 for the privilege of hot water, , a stove, a few lights, a pool pump, and air-conditioning. Oh, and one more thing.
A HEATER.
My husband sits at this very computer with a little space heater blasting at him every night. In June. In July. In August. This is while I have the a/c cranked to within a degree of frost..just so I can breathe. Al Gore would SO not be happy with us. I open the freezer door to get out ice, and look longingly in. If only I could fit in there. For just five minutes? Of course, it would require eating some of the goodies that are frozen to make some space, but I could make that sacrifice for just five minutes of actic blast to soothe the savage pre-menopausal beast that lurks within.
I looked at the electric bill and told my husband (after taking another deep breath and plotting the demise of his stupid space heater in a million creative ways)..."I'll put the thermostat at 78 and I won't touch it ALL SUMMER. But you have GOT to turn OFF THE HEAT."
Puh-leese. He can put on a coat. Just how naked am I supposed to get? The strappy things from the 80's are not only not fashionable, they would be criminal on someone of my age and shape. And...I would still be hot. He can put on a blanket. HE can go for a run (that should warm him up...it's only 97 out there today). My only option is the a/c set at 65---which is not an option anymore--or that fantasy trip into the freezer. Oh, right, that's not an option either.
It does seem unfair on so many levels that I had to have the babies, gain the weight and now? Menopause? Hot flashes? Scary angry thoughts of breaking small ceramic heaters into a million pieces? All that happens to men is a little hair loss. And then, they get that convertible and feel better immediately. Because...they are not HOT!
Today's forecast? 97 with hot winds out of the south. I know I promised about the house thermostat, but I never said anything about not getting in my car and cranking the cold air. I wonder if he'll notice my gas bills? Nah, not with prices rising daily. Well, that's all my blogging for now. I have an appointment with a little station wagon that has cold air-conditioning. I might stop at the freezer on the way out.
Quite thin, in fact. I weighed 124 the day we married and I am almost 5'10". I remember weighing myself and thinking "Wow, I'm getting fat". The hollow laughter that accompanies me when I tell that story to my kids speaks for itself.
DH was thin and fit too. Who isn't when they are 22 and 24, fresh out of (or almost fresh out of) college with their whole lives (and several pregnancies) ahead of them? We routinely finished off large pizzas, followed by--yes--powdered sugar donuts from the 7/11, all downed by some huge sugar-filled soft drink. (Married we might have been, mature we were not). That was dinner. Breakfast was...non-existent, followed by some huge burger-and-fries-filled-fest for lunch. Late night? Shakes of course, made in our wedding-gift blender from K-Mart.
And you know what? I don't remember being hot. Texas was hot. I felt hot after a couple of sets of tennis. Sometimes the junky car I drove with NO a/c made me sweat. A little. But mostly, I remember just feeling "fine". Or, actually... cold....(well, as Perfect Daughter would sarcastically put it..."Mom, those teeny strappy things you wore in 1980-something were bound to keep you chilly...").
Fast-forward 26 years. There is not not only much more of me to love (as opposed to maybe 10 more pounds of DH to love), there are hormones coursing through my body that make me my own little heater. Or, my own large heater. No matter how you put it, that cold feeling is long gone. I'm hot. I'm hot. I'm hot.
We just received the highest electric bill we've ever had. $350 for the privilege of hot water, , a stove, a few lights, a pool pump, and air-conditioning. Oh, and one more thing.
A HEATER.
My husband sits at this very computer with a little space heater blasting at him every night. In June. In July. In August. This is while I have the a/c cranked to within a degree of frost..just so I can breathe. Al Gore would SO not be happy with us. I open the freezer door to get out ice, and look longingly in. If only I could fit in there. For just five minutes? Of course, it would require eating some of the goodies that are frozen to make some space, but I could make that sacrifice for just five minutes of actic blast to soothe the savage pre-menopausal beast that lurks within.
I looked at the electric bill and told my husband (after taking another deep breath and plotting the demise of his stupid space heater in a million creative ways)..."I'll put the thermostat at 78 and I won't touch it ALL SUMMER. But you have GOT to turn OFF THE HEAT."
Puh-leese. He can put on a coat. Just how naked am I supposed to get? The strappy things from the 80's are not only not fashionable, they would be criminal on someone of my age and shape. And...I would still be hot. He can put on a blanket. HE can go for a run (that should warm him up...it's only 97 out there today). My only option is the a/c set at 65---which is not an option anymore--or that fantasy trip into the freezer. Oh, right, that's not an option either.
It does seem unfair on so many levels that I had to have the babies, gain the weight and now? Menopause? Hot flashes? Scary angry thoughts of breaking small ceramic heaters into a million pieces? All that happens to men is a little hair loss. And then, they get that convertible and feel better immediately. Because...they are not HOT!
Today's forecast? 97 with hot winds out of the south. I know I promised about the house thermostat, but I never said anything about not getting in my car and cranking the cold air. I wonder if he'll notice my gas bills? Nah, not with prices rising daily. Well, that's all my blogging for now. I have an appointment with a little station wagon that has cold air-conditioning. I might stop at the freezer on the way out.
posted by herewegoagain at
5:08 PM
3 Comments:
i attest to the fact that you WERE skinny. i know. i tried the dress on.
By
Sho, at 1:39 PM
Oh, poor Auntie B! So I was thinking of ways that you could cool off. Perhaps cover yourself in some "garbage juice" you know, the kind that you find in the pointy corners of garbage bags, and lie in on the deck and let the dogs lick you off? (I think thats basically how Dolly and Pip and Maggie keep cool in the heat. Minus the garbage juice part of course) Also, You do have a pool... I think that If you cover the cord of the electric heater in peanut butter that perhaps a dog might destroy it. Just make sure its not plugged in.
By
iamtheblackwizards, at 2:26 PM
Wow, I left my blog alone for a couple of days and all of a sudden four comments appear. The writing tribe (well, it's in the genes) has circled my wagon train.
Mr. Wizard, the love you have shown to me by sitting and thinking up a truly cooling scenario for me (garbage juice and all) is touching beyond belief. I'll remember it come October....however, the peanut butter on the heater cord is a very good suggestion.
Siobhan, you actually are touching. Sniff. To attest to skinniness. Yes, the dress....
And for Alex...I PUBLISHED your comments. I don't know what blogger did with them. I will check it out...but if I can't find them, please comment again so I can have your lovely link!
By
herewegoagain, at 5:44 PM
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