Clouds in Phoenix? I Want a Refund.

When I moved to Phoenix, I distinctly remember agreeing to certain terms and conditions. Scorching sidewalks that melt shoe soles? Check. Steering wheels hotter than a panini press? Double check. Air conditioning bills high enough to rival student loans? Sadly, triple check.

But cloudy skies and actual rain? I did not sign off on this nonsense.

Today, I woke up to a gray sky, something that's usually reserved for apocalypse movies and Seattle. Suddenly, the sky began leaking and actual water started falling down. It's disorienting, really. Phoenicians emerged from their homes, squinting suspiciously upward like characters in a dystopian film, whispering, "Is this...rain?"

The cheerful sun, my personal therapist, apparently took a day off without prior approval. This gloomy drizzle is wrecking my whole mood. How am I supposed to sarcastically complain about frying eggs on pavement if the pavement isn't sizzling? My entire personality revolves around being amusingly irritated by the blistering heat.

Phoenix without blistering heat is just Los Angeles without the ocean. Or kale smoothies. Nobody signed up for that.

So, Mother Nature, let's cut this out, please. Bring back the oven weather ASAP. I'm ready to return to baking cookies in my car, thank you very much.