I shouldn’t be surprised by what happens each day, but I am: by mid-afternoon, I feel like a psychic vacuum has sucked away my energy, my eye lids dry out and want to collapse, and I can’t remember what I was just thinking. ‘Tis the price of living in a July in which just about every day is 100 degrees……or hotter. “It’s down to 104,” a friend wrote on facebook. “Woohoo!” Another one reports, “It’s just wrong for the temperature to be 97 degrees at 10 p.m.” I agree with both.
On the other hand, I’m equally surprised by how fast humans adapt. Sitting on the porch at the moment, I’m quite comfortable at 90 degrees and 47% humidity, something I would have scowled at a few months ago. Even moving through days when I’m drenched in sweat (and it doesn’t help that heat triggers hot flashes), life is just being life. Sometimes it’s necessary to lie as still as possible on the bed to get cool enough to fall asleep. Sometimes I have to leave the overly-air-conditioned places for the moderately cool ones. Just as stepping out in 20 degrees after a subzero week can be comfortable (at least for the first few minutes), crossing the street when it’s 98 degrees can feel just fine (although I do struggle with 104).
Meanwhile, tonight a cold front is to power through, making tomorrow’s high only about 95, but I’ll miss it: I’m flying to New York in the early morning where the highs promise to be a luxuriously cool 92. Better pack a sweater.