Sticky

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The air has been heavy and there’s a lot of sweating going on in the construction business.

I started my day feeling all right yesterday, but a lot of the work around town is of the gut rehab variety.

Lots of dust and plenty of stairs.

Legs got heavy quickly and sweat was drenching and the 9 hairs on my head.

“So uncomfortable,” one guy said.

“Beats the hell out of snow,” I mentioned.

“Oh not for me!” He exclaimed. “I love the cold.”

Can that possibly be true?

Are there truly people who feel that way?

I’m biased, I guess, cause I live in Buffalo and I can’t ever imagine ever loving snow again.

I’m over the beauty of the first snowfall of the year.

I never ever want a white Christmas.

I don’t like driving in it, walking in it, or even thinking about it.

I hate the grey days without sunshine that seems to linger for eight months around here.

I don’t need to ever hear another Christmas song, or get excited about chestnuts roasting on an open fire.

Give me steaks on the grill.

Sweat pouring down my back as I play or work in it.

My mood is better. My body feels better.

The cat and dog are happy to be outside.

“Man, I hate this sticky weather,” the gal behind the register in the 7/11 said as a way to make conversation.

“Not me! Love it.”

A pair of shorts and a light tee-shirt beats the hell out of fluffy socks, layered clothing and gloves and a ski cap.

Anyone who says differently is lying.

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