Y’all, it is HOT. SRSLY. Those of us on the East Coast of the US this week have been slogging through temperatures in the triple digits. I’ve got a horrible cold but instead of staying home from work, I’ve been going to the office simply because the office has air-conditioning and my apartment does not.
I usually pride myself on being able to beat the heat. I lived for years in the Tidewater region of Virginia, a fetid swamp bottom of unrelenting humidity. I even spent one memorably hellish scorcher of a summer at a college in the tobacco-and-textile flatlands of Danville, Virginia, where we weren’t allowed to play sports until after dark for fear of heat stroke. At no time in either of these places did I have air-conditioning. It was all about box fans, rubbing alcohol and frozen washcloths at bedtime. As a result, I can sleep pretty well in the heat and I almost never use air-conditioning in my apartment. But I do have one lonely window unit in my bedroom.
This week, I am so fucking grateful for that window unit. I had a moment of anticipatory dread when I fired it up on Tuesday. Since it gets so little use, I’m never quite sure if it’ll work when I first turn it on. It would be just my luck if the damn thing had died in February and I didn’t find out until the one night in July that I really need it. Praise Maude, it worked. The rattling and coughing of that window unit coming to life made me happier than all the popsicles, fireworks, beach vacations and backyard cookouts I usually love about summer. It’s the little things, y’know?
So, readers, I want to hear your best, happiest summer story so far this year (or from years past, if you have a good one). What do you love most about summer? Sisters in the Southern Hemisphere, join in from your winter habitat, and please feel free to stoke my envy by telling me how deliciously chilly it is where you live.