I'm irritable.

This must come as a shock to you, because I imagine you think of me as a sunny Mary Poppins-type, always smiling and extending goodwill to all. Helping old ladies across the street, baking cookies for the neighborhood children--that whole deal. I hate to put a dent your perfect vision of me, and possibly be responsible for crushing some of your faith in the general goodness in the world--but I'm crabby today, and no one could blame me. Not only am I lumbering around with this cartoonishly large, pregnant belly, but doesn't help that it's been a face-melting 81 goddamn degrees in my house during the hottest part of the day for the past couple of weeks. It's like I'm living in the Wild West-era, when women just had to sit around and fan their sweaty, stinking faces all day long to keep from dying prematurely. Luckily for me, we're getting new insulation installed soon (bringing our paltry 3 inches of insulation up to the standard 14 inches), so I can die from fiberglass inhalation rather than dehydration, as God intended.

But in the meantime, I'm bloody hot. I need your help. Normally I'd hesitate to turn to you for help in any matter except cleaning monkey cages at the zoo or possibly stamping hands at a roller rink-- except for the fact that you're the only group I can think of that's clearly unemployed, with nothing better to do than sit on your asses reading blogs all day--and since everyone else in the world is gainfully employed and contributing to society in some way, that leaves me little choice but to call on you.

The following is a list of the positions I need filled at my 81-degree Circle of Hell in short order:

Fan Wielders:I need no less than 10 of you to stand around and fan me with some of those long-handled fans you see the servants fanning Cleopatra with in the movies. These 10 fan-wielders should, ideally, be the best-looking among you, if such a group exists. Or I suppose I could settle for the least offensive-looking among you, if I must.

Toilet Scrubbers: 2 or 3 people to clean my house, since it's far too hot for me to engage in such menial tasks. You'll need to bring your own supplies, to include your own toothbrushes to clean the toilets.

Mustard Spreader: 1 person on standby to whip me up a club sandwich when the need arises, and gently press a damp cloth to my delicate forehead while I nibble daintily on your perfectly-toasted creation. Let it be noted that the Mustard Spreaders must never, ever fraternize with the Toilet Scrubbers, lest bacteria carelessly be passed to the above mentioned club sandwich.

Tub Filler: 1 person on call to be ready at any moment to draw me a nice cool bubble bath, and possibly massage my feet while I snooze among the bubbles. Bring a good-sized selection of your own nail polishes (in tasteful colors) to paint my toenails while I nap in the suds.

Toddler Chaser: No fewer than 7 of you to entertain/muffle/restrain/subdue my 2-year-old son, freeing me up for a maximum amount of napping and TV-watching time. These 7 people should be the biggest, burliest among you--ideally ex-marines or former NFL players. They should also posses great mental fortitude, enabling them to stand firm against unreasonable, constant demands to watch Mickey Mouse on TV all day long.

That completes the list, so feel free to go ahead and submit your qualifications for the position you feel best suited for. I'd say no applicants with criminal records are allowed, but I understand I'm dealing with a limited talent pool here, and I can't be choosy--so I will only ask that you refrain from committing criminal acts while in my employ...or, at the very least, that the criminal acts you commit not involve firearms or kidnapped neighborhood children. And, of course, I use the word "employ" in only the sketchiest sense, since there's no actual pay involved in these job positions...unless you count the immeasurable satisfaction a person can get from doing good deeds. And the bonus satisfaction you'll get from losing 7 to 10 pounds per day by sweating like a prizefighter in training in my barely-air-conditioned home.