The heat, my god, the heat.
A heat wave has crashed down upon Southern California, and I think I speak for everyone when I say that the wheels have officially fallen off the productivity bus. I have become listless and weary, finding that even standing in one place for a short conversation makes me tired.
There is a reason why Greece, Italy, Spain and Palm Springs are not the world powers they used to be. Warm weather does not breed creativity and productivity, nor does it ferment political agitation. Heat kills things. I don't feel overwhelmed with the discontent necessary to overthrow the government and the neighboring countries (lucky for you Canada!), I feel overwhelmed at the thought of having to put sunscreen on. Had I been invited to a riot yesterday, I would not have even considered attending. I would have ranted for a few minutes about why someone would choose to hold a riot in such weather conditions, and then I would have returned to my room, where I would keep the shades closed and lay on top of my bed.