a little note on heat

I think the purpose of this post here will be to demonstrate that I really can complain about damn near anything.

It's hot out. Humid hot. Skin becomes flypaper sticky hot. As Sean Kingston would say in auto-tone, it's "cool as fire" outside. It hit 33C today, but 41C or 42C with the humidity, and I'm like a mangy dog, panting and hacking and praying for cool breeze.

I walked to work this morning and five minutes out, I looked like I'd run a marathon or through a sprinkler or just finished filming a sexy car wash commercial. I was Dame Judy Drenched. I got to the office and I was embarrassed to take off my bookbag, because I was sure it was going to look like I'd been ambushed by a platoon of Navy Seals armed with super soakers and water balloons. My ball-ometre reading was at record-levels: I believe it hit 'wetter than an actual tea bag' at one point.

So I refused to venture outdoors until the end of my shift, when I chugged back a glass of water, said a few Hail Flying Spaghetti Monster's Mothers and then got assaulted again by a wall of heat so thick it felt like water. You know when someone farts and you pull your shirt over your nose? You know how you start breathing and after maybe 30 seconds or so, the air becomes heavy and hot and musky and almost unbearable and so you tug your shirt back down and the air is fresh and cool again? Well the city is hide-from-fart humid all day.

I got home, crashed onto the couch and checked my emails on my macbook. I was dripping like I'd been playing hoops in the sun for two hours. Five minutes later, I lifted it up and there were two giant wet spots on my lap, where the computer had sat, and it looked like I'd just gotten a lap dance from a thoroughly oily, hardworking stripper. I scratch behind my knees with my fingers now but they just slide away with the sweat. I stick to the leather couch like a suction cup and the sound I make peeling from it - sort of like someone squeezing a fart out from a wet, rubber ass - makes me sort of sick. My brain feels like it's operating on safe mode and I would really shower every 30 minutes if it was possible.

I've never dealt with anything like this. I'm told it's like this all the time in Lebanon or Vietnam or wherever, but that doesn't help. I love when people tell you things like that. "It'll go months on end like this in Vietnam? Oh, I can't believe it. Suddenly my ass isn't dripping beads of sweat like it's maple syrup from a maple tree. Thanks a billion!"

It's only going to get worse. The forecast is calling for 35C on Wednesday. Might be time to break out the speedo. Would that count as summer casual?