Today is a hot summer day. I’m sure that most everyone in the U.S. today would agree with me, so that is perhaps not that astounding a revelation. What my friends north of the Mason-Dixon line don’t realize is that these last few days have redefined “hot” for many of us in the south.
Today is shaping up to be another day where the following things happen within the first 30 seconds of leaving your air-conditioned building:
1. You are immediately slapped in the face with a blast of hot air that may or may not smell like decomposing fish.
2. Two steps from the front door, in a last-ditch attempt to save yourself from heat stroke every pore in your body releases approximately a quart of sweat, drenching you immediately.
3. Three steps from the door your extra strength deodorant’s patented molecules begin to recombine in the presence of so much latent heat into a rather interesting melange of sulphur compounds.
4. Because of the intense humidity, the sweat on your clothes is actually pulling water vapor from the air instead of evaporating, so that now your clothes are sodden and weigh approximately 20 pounds.
5. Four steps from the door, you are beginning to suffer from a combination of heat stroke, dehydration, chemical burns, and fatigue and are seconds from collapsing to the ground and melting into the concrete.
6. Desperately you drag yourself back into the house and attempt to crawl into the freezer to save yourself.
The girls today want to go to the pool. The water temperature of the pool is 85 degrees. I told them that taking another bath would be more refreshing. You know, it’s really a good thing that global climate change is a myth, otherwise we could expect extreme weather like this for weeks at a time and that would really suck.