Hell's never described as really COLD, is it?

I hate summer.  Okay, it's 8 zillion degrees.  I have no central air.  One of our three window units has conked out.  The kids and I have been at one another's throats, just an absoulte crab-fest.  And not that fun Chesapeake Bay kind, either.  Well, the hammers are still involved, but no dead crustaceans.  Except Sharkey the hermit crab, who sloughed off both his exo-skeleton and his mortal coil on Friday.  But I digress.  It's the heat, I tell you.

So, just a hellish morning, in which the highlight (no seriously) was going to the dentist's office.  It's air conditioned and full of nice people.  Then to the co-op, which is air conditioned and full of pierced people.  And then home, which has none of those things.  We're promised to go to the lake and meet friends.  I'm totally not in the mood, but I'm spurred on by the knowledge that everything is better at the lake.  I get to sit and chat, the kids go play, everyone cools down, we stay til sunset, it's just nice.  Fine, we'll go.  Shut up and get in the car.

Ah, but the lake...it's not at all refreshing. It is the temperature of pee.  It is Human Soup with Seaweed.  No one is getting along.  Julianna is screaming at everyone.  Ben is informing me that that is what *I* sound like.  And sitting on the shore crying that no one likes him.  Wonder why?  Lily has gone off with a family? of mentally challenged people and one seemingly normal girl of about 7.  She's like Marilyn from the Munsters.  Only it's even less funny.  Like The Munsters Today.   They've just given her a bottle of something blue.  Which she's drinking.   We head for home, leaving Julianna to go home with a friend.

I give Ben a movie downstairs. I put another on for Lily on the portable DVD player. I go up to the computer to complain to my imaginary friends.  That room is air conditioned.  Sympathetic imaginary friend Chris suggests I have a beer (your imaginary friends don't tell you to drink?  really?  Why do you keep them around?).  Good idea, Imaginary Chris!  I open the fridge to be greeted with a waterfall.  The stupid fargin' water filter has stupid fargin' cracked again, spewing stupid fargin' water all over everytime it tries to fill its stupid fargin' tank.  I'm a leeeetle tired of dealing with my fridge.  So I get ready to mop it up, only to hear Ben cry "Oh NO!" from the family room.  I go in and he's totally Arubus, holding the controller to the PlayStation, which the dog has chewed up.  Honestly, I don't think I HAVE that much beer.   It's 9:30, they're still awake, and I'm just totally disinclined to do anything about it.