Excuse me as I pull up a stool and vent for a hot second. Pun intended.
I don't know if my memory has just erased the other six summers I've spent in Manhattan or what, but the current weather situation here is downright intolerable. It's hot. It's stinky. Blurry mirages of (clean) public pools hover over the skyscraper-surrounded pavement. And did I mention it's humid beyond belief? We're talking tropical rainforest status. The past two weeks had the weather forecast of: steamyyy. (Said in Stefon's voice, no doubt.) The forecast description read → It will rain when you least expect it for about nine and a half minutes. And by rain, I mean torrential downpour. You won't have an umbrella and you'll be carrying important things. Muahahaha.
We went to an outdoor party on Saturday night and I arrived attempting to un-suction my shirt from my midriff. Is any of my makeup still on my face? I asked Patrick as we walked up to the venue. It was nearly midnight, the air was heavy & stagnant, and we're all doing the I'm-sorry-I'm-so-sticky hug. You know, the hug when you overextend your arms as if to leave room for another person between you and the person you're hugging and you only touch your fingertips on their back, nothing else? That. I was so excited to be out & about (it's rare these days since I'm all old and lame now) and the first drink I ordered? Water on the rocks. I'm really livin' it up here in the big city, folks.
Patrick opted to make a peanut butter sandwich for dinner the other night instead of cooking up some chicken because the thought of turning on the oven which is no more than twelve steps from any other part of the apartment was too much to bear. How sad.
Our power bill is more than double its usual amount considering our survival is solely dependent on our little A.C. window unit. Sometimes it sounds like it's choking and we're running it too much, but it's really the only thing keeping us sane so it best not die or else...!
If I decide to partially blow dry my hair (that's all I every do - I lack the patience to ever fully dry it) and Patrick is asleep then I have to shut the door to the room where the A.C. unit lives. There is no window in the shower room (if you're just tuning in, the shower room is separate from the toilet room) and all other windows in the apartment lead to areas between our building and the one next to it. Thus, no breeze to speak of. So I only make the decision to partially blow dry my hair if Patrick is asleep as long as I'm okay with possibly fainting :)