It is not yet official,

but hell might have frozen over.  It is 75 degrees/F outside and 85 degrees/F inside and, guess what is on?

Give up?  It is the fucking furnace.  I got home an hour and a half ago and made my tuna salad for tomorrow's work lunch, and made a lovely parting gift for my friend John.  His last day at work is Friday and I made dark chocolate almond bark with rainbow sprinkles.

I just went out to the kitchen to break it into small pieces and put them in the gift container and the chocolate is just as soft as when I spread the mess out onto parchment paper.  So, I check the indoor/outdoor thermometer and see just how hot it is in here.  So, next, I go to get a cookie sheet so that I can put the damn thing into the refrigerator and my coconut oil is liquid, for chrissakes.  Liquid!  Yeah, no harm done, but the damn stuff is liquid!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  O.K., it is only half liquid, but still.  Cripes.

So, anyway, I go to someone who is not me and I say, "Hey, babe."  Well, not really 'babe' but something else that is not so nice, but I do not say it out loud...I am thinking all sorts of names in my head, and since only I can hear it, it does not count.

But, I do say "Ummmm, is there any chance that we can turn off the furnace?" 

"No."

"Ummmm, O.K., then can we turn it down a bit?"

"No.  Don't you ever pay attention?  It gets colder at night.  mumble-mumble-mumble"

"Oh, O.K., thanks anyway."

And, I am thinking "How the heck is anyone supposed to sleep tonight?"  Well, at least anyone who has not had a few beers, that is, and that person who did not have beer, well, that would be me, by the way, as if, at this point any of it really matters anyway.  I am also thinking  that I worked on his computer problems this morning.  I mean, even warring nations usually have some kind of reciprocity agreements.  Anyway, I do not have a printer for this machine, so whilst I was down there I thought it would be a good time to type out an easy-to-read version of the itinerary of my trip next month.  I always have to do these detailed things whenever I am going to be away for more than overnight or someone who is not me will freak.

So, after fixing the computer, I ask if it would be all right to do that itinerary for him right then and he says that I can.

It took me approximately 45 minutes to call and do a final confirmation for the hotel reservations and then type everything up and he must have put his telephone on 'speaker' function (we have dial-up and he uses that line for his computer) at least every five minutes.  After the second time, I asked if he wanted me to do this thing later and he said "no."  I kept asking if he needed to make a telephone call and the answer was the same.  Every four or five minutes, squeak-squawk-beep-beep-beep-beep-snargle-squawk-trill-trill-beep-beep-beep.

One of us is nuts.  Frankly, I am pretty certain that it must be me.  Maybe, instead of this trip, I should take that money and turn myself in for some intensive and exotic treatments.  Does anyone still do electro-shock treatments?  Are the even called that anymore?  I just Googled it.  It is called electroconvulsive therapy.  Lovely.  I am already feeling so much better.

Sign me up. 

Pronto.