Back Of My Neck Getting Dirt And Gritty

For those of you who aren't in the New York metro area, or are but live inside a hermetically sealed suit of armor to protect the world from the uncontrollable radiation emitted by your body, it's hot right now. Very hot. Bake-griddlecakes-on-the-hood-of-the-car hot. Or, if you need a geek reference, warp core breach hot. That kind of hot.

I'm no stranger to summer. Oklahoma summers are hot and windy, with the occasional tornado thrown in just to keep things interesting. Houston summers are pretty much like this, hot and sticky, with air like molasses. Atlanta's like Oklahoma without the tornados, but with occasional squalls. In 2002, I worked at a Sears Hardware in Houston, and helped unload the truck every Monday and Wednesday. That was some pretty brutal heat, but I lived. But I think, all in all, there's one major difference between my first New York summer and the ones previous:

For the first time in my life, I am without central air. I have a plug-in unit in my room, but I only turn it on a couple hours every day, to save electricity. Most of the time, the elements are in charge.

Anyone who knew me growing up will tell you that I didn't spend a lot of time outdoors if I didn't have to. If it was uncomfortable to be outside for long periods of time, I just plain didn't go outside. Sweating and shivering were mere options, avoidable if I so wished. And very often, I did not. So I never really built up a tolerance to the extremes of the weather.

Given the unreliability of my building's heating, I learned a good deal about putting up with cold over the winter. Now comes the other half. I think it'll do me some good in the long run. I do, after all, have to live in this world, regardless of how hot or cold it gets from day to day.