Hot Hot HEAT

It's hot today. How hot is it? HOT. So hot that Peter at work, who probably wears a three-piece suit 360 days of the year, was slummin' in a polo shirt. So hot that, as I climb the stairs to my 3rd floor apartment, I can feel my skin crisping with the increasing degree (that's Fahrenheit, not incline) of every step. So hot that my diet at home has so far consisted of (cold) water and (cold) peanut butter and (cold) jelly on (cold) bread. So hot that, when I looked at the light fleece jacket that I usually wear to work, I kinda felt like throwing up.

You get the picture. And it's only going to get hotter!

Actually, I'm grateful to know that summer has arrived. After a pretty nasty (i.e., typical) winter, there were a few really nice 80+˚F days scattered throughout April and May. However, after each nice day, I observed that the temperature the next day plummeted to the 40s. This happened at least three times, before I either (1) lost interest or (2) gave up on summer (and spring) altogether. Consecutive 90˚F days must mean it's summer!

Chicago weather is famously fickle, but at least there are four seasons...for the most part. It's quite extreme on both ends: I only ever remember the really cold days (when I feel the cold coming up the street, through my shoes and socks, into my feet, aiming to freeze my brain) or the really hot ones ("Dear, GOD, I'm in HELL!"). My roommate and I had to suffer with no heat in our apartment during the seemingly 3 coldest days of the year (probably -20˚to -30˚F outside temperature) , but I think a bad Chicago summer is much worse. Around August, you always hear about some little ol' lady stuck in her apartment and dying from the heat. Sad!

I guess we can't all be Berkeley. When planning my travels, I really have to avoid places with crazy solstices.