I’ve never thought of myself as a diva. I’ve always been proud of my ability to endure discomfort. As a child I loved that we went camping in the National Forest with pit toilets and no showers. I took pride in the fact that I could sleep on the hard ground and put up with the bugs and the heat. In fact, as an adult I remember one particularly sweltering day where I just laid on the couch in the path of the fan and enjoyed enduring the sweltering heat. I could have turned on the air conditioner, but I figured then I would “miss out” on the experience of the heat wave, and the day would be just like any other ordinary, boring day. I knew I wasn’t going to die, and what’s more, I was building a memory.
But the older I get, the less I want to tolerate discomfort. I hate the idea of turning into one of those obnoxious Americans who can only travel to 5-star hotels with all the amenities and still find something to complain about. I am a strong human being, and I have courage and endurance and I want to prove it.
But I’m also awfully uncomfortable in this heat.
I think I just may give in and turn on the air conditioner.