Friday's A/C crisis was fixed before maximum uncomfort was reached. Visions of hot repairman porno fantasies were quickly dashed once one of the extras from Deliverance showed up to repair the A/C. But it's okay because Old Man Snaggletooth is an angel in my book for allowing me to enjoy my weekend in a crisp 74°.

Sadly, I have no exciting stories to report from my weekend free from The Roommates™. I only left the house a couple times to fetch food and during those times I actually had to force myself to leave the cool sweet comfort for a scorching journey The Valley of Ra.

I've noticed that many Arizona bloggers at some point post about the ungodly desert heat. I'm pretty sure I have at least once every summer since I started blogging almost four years ago. On the surface it seems kind of trite to bitch about the weather but there is a reason for it: it's really, really fucking hot. This week we are expected to break several records of the heat index just in time to "cool off" to a balmy 106° this weekend.

And yeah, yeah...It's a Dry Heat®. We ALL know that. A trip to NYC at the end of June was a big reminder of the miserable nature of humidity, so yeah — I'll give you the whole It's a Dry Heat® thing. But 117° is pretty unbearable sans the humidity.

Adam brought up this whole "seasonal affective disorder" thing and I for one agree. I've noticed a trend in most everyone I know. No one wants to do anything in the Easy Bake Oven we call the Phoenix Metro area.

Sounds like a good excuse to crank up the A/C and take a nap. Wake me in spring...er...November.