“Hot town, summer in the city Back of my neck getting dirty and gritty Been down, isn’t it a pity Doesn’t seem to be a shadow in the city…”_
One of my favourite songs of all time, just cruisy music coming from the time of the Vietnam war, it was the first thing that came to mind when I went for a smoke break today. It’s getting to that time of year that you’re wishing that air conditioned pants were an option for popular fashion. Summer last year was a soaking wet humidity fest, and this year it’s already working on showing us how bad it can be.
This year I’m working in an office block - which is a lot better than the tin-roofed shed that was the computer store of last year. Set to about twenty-something degrees for the computers and bodies, it tends to be on the chilly side of things most of the time - on a hot day it’s a beautiful thing to walk through those doors and into the cool air beyond.
Walking out, however is another thing. Instantly your body is screaming for you to return, calling forth a river of sweat down your spine, and turning your armpits to a deoderant-powered version of drowned rats. Bleh. I can’t wait to finish the gemini, where I’ll have (hopefully in time) tinted windows, and a half-decent fan setup that should at least keep things bearable for the midday drive to work. Better get cracking then, shouldn’t I?