I think I
could take it if I was a redhead. The summer, I mean, and the heat. I
have trouble with heat (and also shaving cuts) because simmering on the
top of the genetic soup that is me, floating on top of the deep
layers of Misc. Immigrant, is a great big gelatinous film of Classic
English Redhead from my mother's side of the family.
Do I get to
be one? No. I don't get the alabaster skin and the cute freckles and
the hair like beaten copper. No, I just get to spend every summer one
patch of shade away from heatstroke and clutching a paper towel to my
face for forty-five minutes after every slightly too emphatic stroke
of the razor.
So, here I
sit on Sunday evening, determined to hit my goal of posting something
every day to keep the creative juices flowing, except I'm too
consumed by the horrible prickly sensation of so much sweat even
after the fourth shower of the day that I can't think of anything to
write except this self-indulgent twaddle.
Its not that
I think I'm bad looking. I don't particularly mind my body or my
appearance other than the nose. Its just that, well, redheads are
basically universally gorgeous and that could have been me!
I strongly
suspect I post something like this every summer but I am too sweaty
to check.
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