I was thoroughly enjoying the Official First Day of summer—it was warm and not too humid, the neighborhood kids were outside shrieking in their happy play, and PsychoKitty was content to curl up in my lap and snooze while I read my book (no, not Harry Potter, though I did go out and buy that today. I was reading It’s My F---ing Birthday.) Yes, I was enjoying it until someone reminded me that we’re now heading towards winter, instead of creeping away from it.
Oh man, I don’t even want to think about that. Shivering, snow, wet jeans and soggy shoes, toes that feeling as if they’re burning from the frigid temps. And hell, this isn’t even North Dakota—winter in Ohio was nothing compared to ND, but I don’t want cold anymore.
I want to go where it’s warm. I want to go to Las Vegas.
No kidding. Nellis AFB was one of the places Spouse Thingy had listed on his dream sheet, but there were no CRNA openings there when the Evil CRNA Make-People-Transfer-Dude was telling us we had to move. I could handle the heat of southern Nevada if I had a/c. And I’m pretty sure the humidity is low.
Humidity is one major reason I don’t think I could ever live in Texas again. It wears me out.
Still, in spite of the knowing what’s coming in 6 months, I enjoyed today. I went out, sat in the BX Food Court (I figured Barnes & Noble would be too crowded) and got within 5-8 pages of finishing the first draft of the book I’m working on. After the Spouse Thingy got home we headed to Long John Silver’s for dinner (this is a carb-high pig-out weekend for me, as Monday I start a low-carb torture diet), and then back to the BX where I bought underwear.
Yep. Underwear. All of it black.
None of it lace, you perv.
Anyone live in Las Vegas?