On the warm side

OK, it’s not warm, it’s fucking HOT outside. You know it’s hot when the news, at 5:30 in the MORNING, says the heat index is at 93 degrees. Of course my heat index, which is very accurate thank you very much, read it at more like a hundred and ninety three degrees. How do I know this? Because at 3:30 this afternoon when I walked down Market Street in a black sleeveless shirt and khaki capris in black flip flops that were sticking to the pavement because they were MELTING, my internal thermometer read about a BILLION degrees and so since it’s cooler in the morning I deduced that the weather guy was a moron and obviously left off the 1.

I really shouldn’t complain, I sleep in my air conditioned home and then get in my air conditioned car to get to the air conditioned train and then to my air conditioned office. But I do walk a half mile each way to the office and it’s in the sun and it’s really hot so I feel like I can complain a little bit.

We should have Heat Days. You should be able to call out “hot.” Sort of like how we have snow days and sick days. Of course if you’re adding Hot Days you should also add in “I Have Nothing to Wear” days and the occasional, “My Hair Looks Like Crap So Can We Please Reschedule the Videoconference” Days. Ahhh.. I think the heat is making me delusional. Ooooh, I wonder if I can at least get a parasol on eBay. That would really help keep the sun off on my walk to work.