I’ve decided to take a little break from my ramblings and tell a story. Seeing as how it’s almost Christmas, I thought (for some reason) it would be amusing to tell a story about something that happened to me this summer. This is the story of how I suffered the consequences of walking in the heat of June for almost an hour. There will be more stories after this one, hence the category. Now, I’m not quite as good at story telling as other people on the internet, and I don’t have any doodles to go along with it, but I’ll try to keep it interesting.
Wisconsin is an…unusual state when it comes to weather. Sometimes it can be pleasant one year, and horrible the next year. There was one summer where we had thunderstorms for weeks, and then they just stopped. This past summer, there were very few thunderstorms. There wasn’t much rain, either. In fact, all throughout June and I believe about half way through July, this summer was blisteringly hot. I had resorted to living in the basement with a fan on the entire day just so I wouldn’t get sick from the near constant heat. Every time I ventured outside, it was like walking through a giant oven. To this day, I have no idea why I even wanted to go outside half the time, but I did. Only this particular time, I actually payed for my carelessness.
It was around the middle of June, and the temperature was somewhere in the nineties. My mind was on two things: Thor and Catching Fire. Someone had recommended Thor to me, and I had just finished reading the first Hunger Games book. I was trying to figure out how I could get my hands on these items, when I suddenly had a brilliant idea, one that would surely go down in history as one of the best ideas ever. The library! Of course! I could find Thor and Catching Fire there! Man, was I genius or what? I envisioned myself walking out of the library holding the book and movie above my head in a blaze of glory and triumph.
But then I got an even better idea. Instead of just asking one of my parents if they would drive me over there, I would walk. By myself. In ninety degree weather. With little to no shade. To a place that’s half a mile away from my house. Yeah, I’m not sure what was wrong with me that day. So when I went to my parents with this idea, they were a little apprehensive and asked if I wanted to take my Dad’s cellphone with me, in case I didn’t think I could make it all the way. But then it turned out said cellphone was dead. After a quick discussion, instead of just waiting for dad’s phone to charge, I went ahead and started walking to the library. I’m sure my parents were wondering what had happened to the mature, responsible daughter they had raised.
The first fifteen minutes were easy enough. I was confident I would find my treasures and head home with no worries. But then I started to sweat. A lot. And it felt like my skin was burning. The self assurance started to fizzle out as I grew hotter and hotter. By the time I reached the library, my the back of my shirt was completely soaked with sweat (I know, gross) and I was almost out of breath. My whole body felt like it was on fire. So as you can imagine, the library was heaven. Upon entering the building, I was blasted with a wave of cold air that filled my lungs, cooled my skin off, and made me never want to leave.
But of course, I wasn’t there to be pampered. I was on a mission. After taking a few deep breaths, and a drink from the water fountain, the hunt began. To make a long story short, I didn’t find what I was looking for. I found the second Iron Man movie, but no Thor and no Catching Fire. Obviously I wasn’t feeling very confident now. It wasn’t getting any colder outside, my parents were expecting me, and because of my own impatience, the only way I could get home was by walking. Angry and defeated, I decided to just go home now and get it over with. That was a bad move on my part. My body was still recovering from the heat, and going back outside so soon just made things worse.
That was the longest, most difficult walk of my life. The instant I stepped outside, those flames roared back to life and in just a few minutes, I was sweating like a pig. But that wasn’t the worst part. My head was foggy, I was starting to feel nauseous, and I was so dizzy it’s a miracle I didn’t fall over right there. The only thing that really kept me from passing out was the fact that I would stop every few minutes to catch my breath. Fainting right on the sidewalk was the last thing I wanted to do. Landing on concrete probably isn’t good for one’s head. But I sure did come close. Or at least, I’m assuming that I did, considering I kept swaying back and forth when I walked.
The worst part of it all was knowing that all of this was my fault. If I had just asked my parents to drive me to the library, none of this would have happened. That, above all is what made me keep going. Like I said, it was a long and difficult trip. But I made it, and after telling my parents that I had been unsuccessful, I poured myself a glass of ice cold water, walked down to the basement, and flopped to the ground like my legs were made of jelly. I’m not sure why I thought ice water was a good idea. It didn’t help me cool off very much and it made me even more nauseous. It took me over thirty minutes to get back to normal.
So, what’s the moral of this story? I guess…don’t walk outside when it’s hot if you don’t have a cellphone.