What do you mean I can't take off my sweater? I'm hot!
This isn’t kvetching…it’s a cry for help.
I had forgotten how hot it can get at work on these beautiful days…when the radiators have not yet been turned off for the season. I’m wearing a short-sleeved shirt, skirt and sandals (perhaps my only chance for the public to see the only pedicure I may ever have) and I still feel like I’m melting. Luckily the window wasn’t swollen shut today, so I don’t have the same suffocating feeling that I had on Friday. I hate to call a maintenance man to open my window. That just seems so, well, wimpy. But I don’t like to pound on the frame too hard, either. I did that once when some children from our parish school were going along the sidewalk, and I think I scared them. (“Look, that crazy woman is trying to escape!”) I also know what it feels like to put my fist through a pane of glass. An interesting experience; and relatively painless, but I don’t want to press my luck.