It’s not the heat, it’s the stupidity.

I just spent a week telling all my New England relatives how wonderful the weather is in Los Angeles and what a great place this city is to live and work. And then I returned. Dumb move on my part I guess. For at least the tenth time this year the air conditioning is malfunctioning in my office building. My cubicle is only slightly less comfortable than I imagine the burning flames and constant anguish of hell to be. Consider this: I wore a long-sleeve, warm shirt to work today because last week we couldn’t get the thermostat above sixty degrees F.

Or maybe it’s just that everything sucks after a vacation.