My laugh machine,
Don`t think of me
I`m not fragile
I`m a ghost waiting
Behind a locked door
Give reality a chance
Find your Rushmore
-LN

/////April 17, 2002 - 12:13pm/////

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Anticipated high: 95 degrees Current temp:91 degrees

Will somebody please give me a popsicle? I'm dying here! What the hell
happened to spring?

As I stepped out of my already heat heavy apartment this morning and onto the
street, I was reminded that I live on the East Coast and business attire is not
conducive to these humid summer climates. Thank the king of subways that my
stop is less than a block away. However, within seconds I`m on the platform
already in need of a fan, tissue and a mojito with extra ice.

Walking into the office I receive stares and strange looks of sympathy and then some laughing.
What`s going on? Do I have pit stains or something? Sweat makes me insecure.

"Dude are you ok? You look like the walking dead."

These are not words you like to hear first thing in the morning when you haven`t yet had a
chance to earn that tired appearance. Scorn on you all! So I`m a big baby who isn't used to
this crap. So I enjoy my weather between 60 and 80...and not until after lunch. So what if I
walk into the office looking like a banshee defeated by the son of Death. Give me a popsicle!

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