How you know it's hot

A friend sent an email about listening to a classical music station at work, and being jealous when the DJ announced:

"This next piece is the Piano Quintet in A Major, Opus 81, by Antonin Dvorak, played in its full 40 minute splendor."

Now, my friend's point was that this was a nice way to get a little mid-day break. And I agree. But unfortunately, all I could think of was "Man, I bet that studio's air-conditioned. Must be nice."

Which is my way of saying that it's been way too hot for me to have much to say lately. The judiciary is all well and good, but it doesn't whet my bloggy appetite quite the way it does Crimenotes' so posting from me is going to remain sporadic until the weather stops sucking so bad or I move somewhere less hot and humid, like Singapore.