In the Hot Seat

At work, today, I volunteered to re-do some work done by one of our contractors because... well... I had missed a step in the explanation of the task we had asked her to do.

Consequently, because I had missed that step, instead of writing up a list of needed changes for a document, she had gone into the actual interior layout and made changes and comments. Which the author can't actually see.

Normally - assuming the contractor has been given all of the details of the task - we'd have done something like sending it back to the contractor for a re-work.

But since this was pretty much my fault, I figured it was up to me to fix it. Which means that I had to push myself to scan through a 261-page novel and transcribe the changes before the end of the day.

And, in the process, I lost a day of work on an edit which is due on Thursday.

That would be the metaphorical hot seat.

At the same time, though, the air conditioning in the new office seemed to be having some problems. As the day went on, the temperature in the various offices gradually went up.

I suspect that even the ombre hombre might have become uncomfortable (in response to Dragonfly's question: unfortunately, he's muscular, but not prettily so...).

The keyboard started to feel kind of tacky/humid. My t-shirt started to cling to my back. The office became annoyingly cloyingly sticky.

That would be the literal hot seat.

Here's hoping the heat breaks for all of us - metaphorically and literally - soon.