July is undoubtedly the hottest month of the year. On a merciful day, the air was dry and hot. The sun beat down high in the sky, scorching and relentless. But today, the sun went cuckoo, hiding behind the thick gray clouds that seemed to beg to be released. The air was thick, humid and extremely unpleasant. The thud of my shoes on the concrete sidewalk beneath me seemed to get louder with each step. In an error of judgment, I decided to take a quick jog before the 4th of July celebration (a holiday that signifies impending disaster) at my aunt's house, a big mistake. The blood pounded in my ears and my pace became more jarring with each beat of my heart as I rounded the corner and reached my street. Finally I entered my mother's bright kitchen, feeling that if I tried too hard, I might collapse. She laughed out loud when she saw me in the doorway and pulled a chair away from her huge kitchen table, motioning for me to sit down. I immediately collapsed, smiling gratefully as she grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and tossed it lightly at me. “Is it hot out there?” he asked, returning to the saucepan I thought he would bring to the barbecue. I laughed weakly, “It's not very hot...just muggy and very humid. Hopefully the fireworks won't be ruined tonight.” She nodded absently. I sighed and stood up from the chair, forcing my legs to carry me forward. With my mother and her casserole dish behind me, I decided it was time to get ready for the promising afternoon ahead. After a long hot shower, which fortunately loosened my tense muscles, I curled my long brown hair and artfully applied makeup to my face. . Me... half the paper... more air. The sun was setting; the sky was speckled with beautiful pinks, oranges, purples and deep blues. I smiled to myself, feeling a sense of calm come over me. I went back inside and changed clothes, hoping that after such a hectic day everything else would go smoothly. I was wrong. After burning myself several times with sparklers, I gave up on the entire institution. I wish I could say the same about my uncle. After successfully breaking a window with a screaming angel and having to run inside to make sure there was minimal damage, my aunt grabbed the fireworks and stopped the celebration fearing for the well-being of her home. I laughed to myself, happy that that day had ended without any serious injuries and everyone had had fun. Despite the intolerant sun, humid air, burning gas cans and broken windows, it was a beautiful day.