Hot Hot Hot

I woke up at 3:30am damp and scared.  I must have had a nightmare because my heart was racing and my jaw was tense from clenching.  I don't remember the nightmare, but I do remember dreaming about Nick tricking me into tasting a pickle pizza.  There was no need for deception since I told him in real life that I believed him that a pickle pizza was tasty and I would try it willingly.

But I was also damp.  Sweaty.  And I know why...It's because my apartment is Equator hot.  I'm living in a prominence with a fireplace inside a small Italian kitchen.  It's satanically hot.  There are old timey radiators in every room that have a knob to control the temp, but whether its barely touched or cranked to 11, it's the same.  African planes suffocatingly angry hot.  I'm going to die of hyperthermia.  But it's OK.  At least I'm not cold.

I can't breathe.