July 22, 2006

If there’s a hell, it must be Merced.

This week, we seem to have relocated between California and the Sun. As I was driving back home on 59 from Snelling, the car thermometer was at 111°F. I can probably count on one hand the number of times I have seen a temperature that high in my life. One of the things about heat waves that you don’t realize until they hit you is how surreal it is to experience once. When I stepped out of my car, I thought I was feeling the heat death of the universe upon me. And believe me, it was a very humid heat. I started to consider drafting my will and testament.

July 23, 2006

I could hardly sleep last night, for my fan could only do so much to cool me down. The heat remained persistent into the early hours of the morning; I took a check at the outside thermometer a couple minutes after sunrise, and it was 81°F. Before long, we were back into triple digits. Well, what can I do about it but play Kameo: Elements of Power to pass the time. 

Around 4:00 that afternoon, I got a call from one of my friends in Lodi. He worked at the hospital in town, and the descriptions of what he was seeing was unbelievable. Every minute, it seemed, a new victim of the heat would roll in. He was becoming overwhelmed, so I told him that if he needed to compose himself, just hang up and call back later. 

With every passing minute, I feel the pain of July’s electricity bill a little stronger.

July 24, 2006

Day whatever of my life in the valley of fire and brimstone. Once again, I had a very restless night. I was heat-dreaming of these alien landscapes and all of these Eldritch creatures inhabiting them. At about 5:00 that morning, I decided that I had to go for a solitary drive. With the first glows of daylight forming behind me, I set out south, with no real destination in mind. I fired up The Bear and the first song that hit me was “The Day I Tried to Live.” It felt oddly fitting.