Friday Afternoon Confessional: Enough with the hot
I confess I can be a lot more environmentally conscious in the winter than I can in the summer. In the winter, I’m fine with keeping the thermostat down around 62 or 64 and throwing on a sweatshirt. In the summer, it’s set at 72 or 74 and I just burn my carbon credits from the winter, refusing to bump it up. I simply cannot handle the house being hot and stuffy, especially when I’m trying to sleep.
I confess the first episode of season three of Louie was perhaps a little too melancholy for me. How do I know it’s a great show, though? At the end, I had a feeling of disappointment about the show, but immediately realized I liked the standup bit at the beginning, the joke about parking signs being unintelligible, the big reveal of his ex-wife and when he was talking to the motorcycle salesman. I confess I almost spoiled the ex-wife joke for people who DVRd it just so I felt like I had something real to confess.
I confess this week’s New Yorker cover struck me as a little harsh. It shows a man mowing a little lawn that he has carved out of the forest. I assume it’s a statement about the Colorado fires and people living in places they were never meant to be, but it just seems like a pretty callous time for the criticism. I won’t be too hard on them, though, because every time fires get out of control or a landslide wipes somebody’s house out I think to myself that it’s probably a sign the house(s) shouldn’t have been where it was. I confess I don’t have similar feelings about homes damaged by earthquake, tornado or hurricane and I haven’t given too much thought to whether this position is reasonable or a failure in logic.
What about you, reader? Did the ridiculous fucking heat make you do anything you’d rather not have done and would like to talk about?
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