We are -- Jonathan and I -- now living in a world of pure enveloping heat. It is all day. It is all night.

Despite this, the summer social whirl is up and roaring -- albeit with some conversational limitations. Jonathan and I have had social engagements every day this past week and a little routine had emerged: I see someone I haven't seen in days/months/hours/ever and I say, "Oh, hello! How nice to see you! How are you?" and they say "I'm hot!" and I say "So am I" and then there is a little verbal lull because both of us are too hot, quite frankly, to think of anything entertaining to say. 

Not that I don't try. Just yesterday, I regaled some people from Dublin about my intense love of "Irish fucking butter." This was my conversational high point of the evening and it was all downhill from there, including a detailed discussion of the bike-shorts-to-heat-rash pipeline. Summer on the Riviera -- glamorous!

Also, we had a solar eclipse. And yet it brought no relief from the heat.

You would think that having the sun actually go out would perhaps drop the temp a degree of two. But no.

We are the damned.