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  • Writer's pictureElijah Ricks

Things are heating up

The biggest news down here is that things are heating up. The past few weeks have been in the upper 90s and this week is supposed to be even worse. It’s hard on Kira, and I’m outside about half of the time at my job, so I come home covered in a cocktail of sweat and sunblock (Mmmmm…) and am getting quite a nice tan. In fact, we’ve joked that I don’t really need to wear a wedding ring anymore, the little line around my finger is so white compared to the rest of my hand. Not really much relief in sight either. I really enjoy my job, don’t get me wrong; the hardest part really is the heat.

Speaking of jobs, we had a little scare earlier this week. Kira got some emails from HR and some administration describing the financial crisis into which her company has fallen (well then why did you just give everybody a raise?), and they explained that they would have to make some cutbacks in the number of employees. Naturally, we panicked because we really wanted the extra income to knock out most of our debt before the baby’s born, and we can have double coverage for insurance to bring down the cost of the birth to practically nothing. So after lots of sweating and prayer, we found out that she’s safe, and will continue to work until she chooses to leave. Whew!

On Friday, we went to a fundraiser dinner for a mental health organization. We didn’t expect much for $5 a plate, but what they fed us was horrendous. They called it sloppy joes, and there was meat in it, but there were also just about as many onions as there was meat. Now, as you will recall either from experience or from a previous blog (“I’ve been tagged!”), if there is anything on this planet which I absolutely and passionately detest, it is onions. So, even though it goes without saying, I’m going to say it anyway; I could feel my taste buds shivering with terror as I slowly brought the pathetic excuse for sustenance to my mouth. As I bit down into the soggy bun, my nostrils took in the defiled air surrounding the chopped vegetable that is the bane of my existence, and as my tongue grazed the tainted mixture of “sloppy” and “joe”, my senses shouted in agony and begged me to cast the monstrosity into the depths of the waste bin, where it belonged (and perhaps whence it came), but nay, I gagged it down. After a long, strenuous day working under the tortuous heat of the sun, I needed some form of nourishment, and with no other options available, it was either onions surrounded by some sloppy joe, or flop over on the table, drained of strength. Perhaps I did not make the wise choice, but I am alive.

As you can imagine, such a traumatic experience has left me weak in the knees and general tummy area, not to mention the psychological effects, but after a large brownie milkshake on Saturday and some free counseling from Kira, I think I am back on the path to recovery.

The entertainment was pretty good, and parking was ample.

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