Poison buffet

Standing over a simmering pot of gravy on a stove while my spine begins to drip down into my thighs, and I wonder why am I doing this?

My every sweat gland is on active duty with a mission to dehydrate my very existence by sweating a record breaking nile.
And cooking food while standing in heat laden aura of kitchen whilst every functional stove is diligently blowing iridescent blue flame and cooking pots of vegetables and curries and roti's, while the cook in question is fighting wave after wave of fainting spells that are brought on by steady flowing waterfalls cascading down every part of my body.

I say what?

Every couple minutes I pop out of the kitchen and wipe myself down with a thick towel that I have kept for just this purpose and breathlessly step back into the furnace that is my insolent sacred space or rather sauna of the moment.

Kitchens are unbearable at this time of summer and cooking should be deemed illegal, and knifing spouses should be a pardonable offence in this heat, specifically when they come sauntering from their air conditioned offices and cars and ask 'what's for dinner?' I'll tell you what's for dinner and be glad that your death isn't a part of this menu.
Why am I doing this even?
I can just eat a potato and a piece of toast for dinner then why am I making a full meal?
Shouldn't other people be okay with this arrangement too? Coming back from the gym this should be just enough, and in fact forage for your own food should be the ideal way of dealing with this weather.
Ah, well..this just makes morning lunches easier. I simply pack the leftovers and there you go..to a certain death, cuz one day I am going to buy a bucket full of arsenic.

And showering hasn't helped, cuz five minutes in and I'm simple bejewelled, bedewed.
Air conditioning, come to my rescue, while I make a list of poisons.