My hot-ass apartment is so annoying. It's 68 out now, but since the only window in my bedroom has the a/c in it, I just turned it on. It's not even June!

Hah. It's 60 here, and the low this morning was in the 40s.

It's literally 89 degrees in my living room right now. 4th floor, brick, etc. Bleh.

It's probably 78 downstairs, humidity not too bad. Cooler upstairs with the AC. It's in the upper 80s with 65% humidity outside. BLEH.

(I will try not to bitch about it all summer, but rest assured, if I am posting from home, I am sweating. If posting from work, freezing. Just FYI.)

My apartment has finally cooled down to what feels like maybe 85 or so. Still way too hot, but at least within livable range.

Back from Walnut Creek where Emmett was playing his first baseball tournament this year. He played pretty well, looked good at catcher, hit the ball sharply very twice, roped a singled into right, and a hard shot up the middle that required an excellent defensive play to get him out.

But it was a weird game with lots of bad vibes. We mounted a rally in the first and the other team got out of it with a hidden ball play. It's legal, but kind of bullshitty, and it killed an opportunity to bust open a lead. Then in their at bat all kinds of dumb stuff happened. A routine grounder turned into a collision at first and our guy started a shoving match and was immediately ejected. Our pitcher, who had been cruising up to that point, balked the runner over and pretty soon they put four runs on the board with two outs.

Our hardest hit ball turned into a spectacular out in left field. But they were hitting better, we couldn't break open the game with men on, and our infield made some terrible throws on routine plays. So we got slaughtered.

We'd actually played pretty well up to that point in the tourney, but that wasn't sharp or smart play.

Are we talking about weather? Must we? Okay, it's temperate and lovely here. Ergo you should all move to SF and quit bitching like sweaty old grammas.

Hah! I carry sweaters into work, but won't put them on until I get there.

And it is downright chilly in my bedroom right now. WOOHOO!

I acquiesed and let Joe turn on the AC, though I complained mightily. Until Emeline came out of her room sweating and flushed and then I shut it. But I'm about to turn it off and go to bed.

It's cooled off enough that I'm comfortable with just the fan going in the window. The humidity backed off enough that I was relatively comfortable for most of it, so long as I sat in a breeze.

That said, I'm now entirely reacquainted with the phenomenon of sweating like a pig when you're not doing anything more rigorous than sitting still. That bugs me, truly -- if i was running or exerting myself severely, sweating would be just and proper, not to mention healthy if I didn't want to keel over from heatstroke.

But breaking out a sweat when you're not moving is just wrong.