whether there is weather

Whatever higher power that is romping around above us meek human beings has an ironic sense of humor. The humidity has gotten to me; to both my attitude and my heavy hearty hair. I'm worried that if i stay in this damp room much longer i won't be able to fit my fro through the doorway, and will be forced to bloat until the room gets up and leaves instead. At least i'd feel like i accomplished something with my unconscious protest. Holy hot, michigan. I have never been nostalgic for the weather 3 months ago. Scratch that, 3 weeks ago. The cold, the snow, the frostbite. I remember ever so clearly shaking some mitten-covered fist at the greyed and snowing sky yelling at mother-fucking-nature about how it's mother-fucking-april. I took it too far, so this is probably all some sort of cosmic justice, telling her (mother nature that is) that i understand she's been around for some thousands of years and i'm sure this is just her menopausal mood swings setting in but she should get a grip. And now, after lecturing her about the concept of heat, oh, she's giving it to me baby.
In the haziness of the heat and devastation of finals, the campus has turned into one big mirage for me. Errbody else is done with their exams and stumbling around in a celebratory-drunken stupor, headed to one giant-fucking party that i'm not invited to. I keep seeing an oasis of friends, shining in the distance, but as my eyes focus in and out i see only the glow of my computer screen and papers rustling in the wake of this life size fan, blowing used air over my used body, and doing nothing good for the current situation of my hair that i had described briefly above.
Denise and i wandered on over to rendezvous at some point during this endless night, to get a little bit of learn on, but ended up telling stories to each other, mostly on my part. With the hope that i am just as enigmatic to her as she is to me, i put a little part of myself onto the patio table and watched my history spill through the holes and onto her lap. But instead of grabbing a napkin and wiping my words off of her, i decided to let them seep. I hope she spills something huge and steaming on me one day too, because hell, y'all know misery loves company. This heat is really doing something to me, pumping into my pores until older parts of me overflow and cascade down, drowning villages and towns. I feel pretty drained right now, after dumping myself onto an unsuspecting bystander, but as long as this humidity continues forecasts predict me to be fairly swelled up once again by tomorrow. Hope to withstand all this weathering.