dog days

Like the moths with which I share greatest physiological resemblance, my attraction to light is tremendous. We differ in that my tendency to flutter around lightbulbs in darkened rooms is considerably diminished, nor do I tend to fly headlong into panes of glass, having trained myself out of this particular pursuit, so ill befitting of humankind, a number of years ago.

I do, however, get desperately frustrated when sitting in the shady, sterile confines of my laboratory, cooled, as it is, to the ambient temeratures of the Antarctic summer - which, let's face it, is still pretty icy - when through its enormous picture windows I can see a cityscape bathed in brilliant sunshine, signs of intense heat apparent everywhere, none so obvious as the shimmering air above the sunbaked rooftops. I should be outside, reading a book beneath a shady tree, scribbling ActionScript, php and html in a notebook like the closet geek that I am, fishing in the tall grasses that line the riverbank, or lying half-naked and smothered in suncream on a blanket, roasting on one of the greens like all those who live lives of leisure.

I want to be outside. My aim is to get halfway there through procrastination, daydreaming, and the need to run important errands into town. Well, maybe not the last, but it would be nice; staying in on a day like this is criminal.