Warning: Irrational Bitch Session Below

Last night I had a tennis match. My opponent and I played in 106 degree weather for nearly two hours. It was brutal. And, naturally, on the day I'm playing in HELL, my opponent and I are actually well-matched, taking nearly every game to deuce (and beyond). The heat was giving her severe stomach cramps and giving me goosebumps, but by god, we finished the match! (yes, I even ended up winning)

Afterwards - exhausted, over-heated, dripping with sweat - all I wanted to do was get to my apartment to pick up work clothes and then get to my temporary home and jump in the pool. And for some reason, everyone on the road with me was driving excruiatingly slow. Putting along at 40 in a 55 zone (Goooooo!)...coming to a complete stop before making a turn...and just generally being uncommonly pokey and annoying! I was hot and cranky, so maybe some of it was merely my imagination, but for the love of god, Get. Out. Of. My. Way!

Finally made it (after many exasperated sighs, curses, and gestures), only to find the pool water a disappointingly lukewarm temperature that wasn't cooling in the least. Blah.

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