This is the story of a stomach ache.  The story of of 90 degree and humid day in July.  The story of it being way too hot in this damn city.  I came home from work this evening to find our kitchen thermometer reading 87 degrees.  It got worse when I walked to my bedroom and found a thermometer reading 92 degrees cool.  The boyfriend came to pick me up, and I insisted on ice cream for dinner.  Two oversized scoops of brownie brownie batter and coffee oreo ice cream later, my apartment is still hot and my stomach is not happy.