Eighty degrees. EIGHTY DEGREES. INSIDE THE FREAKING HOUSE.

I can’t even.

I like to think I can multitask but ask me if I’m up for scheduling a service on the a/c unit. Go on, ask me. Because I am for ever-loving sure N-O-T on board with handling this mess right now. Then again I’m also not on board with sitting here in eighty degree grossness. Guess I’ll have to claim my inner diva on this one.