It is hot hot hot humid humid humid and I am a perpetual pool of perspiration. Christ. Everything is damp. I lean forward onto the table and come away with napkins and whole sections of the newspaper stuck to my forearms.
I loathe this time of year. Absofuckinglutely hate it. The thunderstorms are lovely, when they fire up over midtown instead of just taunting us from the east side, the south side, the northwest, but they don't come every day. Just the clouds and the oppressive thick air, clothes that won't dry, a swamp cooler that snorts with laughter and says yeah right, talk to me again in October.
Floor fans. Cold lime seltzer water from Trader Joe's. Immobility. These are the top priorities today.