Because it wouldn’t be social media without a mention of JUST HOW HOT IT IS OMIGOOOOOD.

Y’all know it’s hot. I don’t need to tell you that. We’re having a heat waaaaave. A tropical heat waaaaave. And while going to the beach sounds like a good option in theory, in reality, it would be mean lugging a ton of stuff and a toddler to sit on the sand with lots of other people trying to avoid getting sweaty, and you know what? We have air conditioning. I think I’ll just sit in the house today.

Heat and I don’t mix. For starters, I get Tomato Face. It’s genetic, this face. My mom gets it. My sister gets it. Any time we think it’s a good idea to do some exercise, we are left with a bright red face that lasts forever. Like, FOREVER. There’s a picture of me in high school about an hour after the finale of my dance recital and my head looks superimposed on top of my body, like a bad Photoshop experiment. Really red face, really white body. It’s sexy…not.

When it’s this hot out, I don’t have to exercise to get Tomato Face, I just have to walk outside. Or into a warm building. I swear, I’ll be surrounded by other people who maybe have a little glow about them, and I look like I just ran back-to-back marathons while chugging steaming hot tea. Glisten, I do not.

Heat: 1, Molly: 0

Next, we have my hair. The minute a spec of humidity enters the atmosphere, my hair rebels like a petulant teenager and to prove to me just how mad it is, shrivels up into these teeny, tiny curls that frizz around my head like a halo. It’s worse after being pregnant, because I sprouted all these new hairs during my pregnancy and they’re only a few inches long right now, meaning when they curl up they’re about half-an-inch long and a bird could probably nest in it and you wouldn’t know the difference.

The ONLY product I found that ever really helped combat it (Hang Straight by Aveda) has been discontinued, and my heart broke into a million pieces upon hearing the news. An internet search left me seriously considering spending upwards of $40 for one tiny bottle on Ebay, but I stopped myself, rationalizing that there must be some other product out there that would do as good as a job. I’ve yet to find it, though, and so, my hair continues to act out.

Heat:2, Molly:0

Finally, I just get really whiny when I’m hot. Ask anyone in my family, and they can do a near-perfect impersonation of me complaining about the heat. “I’m hoooot.” Gah, how can you not complain? I think I’d rather be cold, honestly. Well, I don’t know. Neither are really that great of an option, but I think I complain less when I’m cold. When I’m hot, I just feel oppressed and until I’m sufficiently chilled, there is no solution.

Heat:3, Molly 0

But. BUT! The heat means all things icy, and I cannot tell you the joy I get from popsicles, ice cream, homemade watermelon icies, frozen lemonade (a Rhode Island tradition!) If nothing else, the heat means indulging in some icy deliciousness, and I consider that a win.

Heat:3, Molly:1

The odds are stacked against me, but at least they’re tasty.

Stay cool, all!