There are days I feel drained.
As if my energy tank had lost the bung out of its bunghole.
The frog (I suspect it is a Mexican tree frog) sat on the window grill of my guest bedroom for two days. Maybe he simply did not have the energy to go make tadpoles.
I know how he felt. About not having energy.
Our weather here has decided to do its best impression of September. As you know, I headed off to the highlands for the months of August and September to avoid what is traditionally our most tortuous months in tropical Jalisco. And the moderate 50 degree mornings of the highlands were like gifts from heaven.
This past week, the combination of temperatures and humidity in Melaque has driven the "feels like" indicator consistently over 100. I can tolerate a lot of weather. But it does get more difficult when it is a lot of weather -- repeatedly. Like being force fed papaya.
My usual coping skill is to sit in the shade with a book while a fan does its yeoman best to make me believe there is a breeze. The kind of breeze you would feel on Molokai.
Even my Mexican neighbors are complaining about the inability to sleep. When I get to bed early (around midnight or 1 AM), I regularly end up staying awake until 4 AM.
The heat has really taken the joy out of my recent house-hunting high. Today I started asking myself what on earth I am thinking? Buying a house on the coast because I liked the highlands?
Earlier in the week I received a long list from my realtor in Oregon of projects she thinks need to be done to upgrade the house for the current market. They are all quite logical. But if I were to complete the list, I would move back into the house myself. And I would undoubtedly make changes that a new buyer would not like.
So, here I sit on the back porch. My Kindle at hand. My fan at foot. Putting away big decisions for a week or two.
Because I can.
