Comfort Zone

Man, is it hot outside. It's the kind of heat that makes it feel like you are standing behind the exhaust pipe of a bus all the time. The type of heat that makes it hard to breathe. Hard to exert oneself in any way. People think I'm a baby, but I can't deal with heat. My body is not equipped. Yesterday, on my way to lunch which was a 4 block walk, I seriously believed that I was going to pass out. It's that hot. The up side is that it makes me feel okay about running on Caribbean Time, rather than New York Time. It'll get done, no problem. But it might get done tomorrow. Don't hold your breath. There is no rush to get anywhere, and I like that. But back to the heat and my intolerance for it.

I wonder if I am more warm-blooded than the next person. I am usually more hot than cold. I blush and turn red easily. I sweat. Not perspire, like a lady is known to do, but sweat. Like a man. People are constantly asking me if I'm cold or worried that my bare shoulders will catch me my death. They do not understand that I am a self-sufficient oven, ever looking for a nice breeze to cool me down. Fall and Winter are my seasons. But yet, being as hot as I am, I take even hotter showers. My opinion is that since my base temperature must be higher than usual, I can't feel the water unless it is super-hot. I worry about being pregnant one day, since my chilly friends have told me that the hot flashes are really bad. How much worse can it get for someone like me? It won't be pretty. Forget the pregnancy glow... this will be the pregnancy wildfire.

Yet, all this being true, the icy cold air conditioning in my office is no treat. I have to wear a sweater to cover my freezing body especially since I have to walk walk through the even colder meat locker that is our print studio about ten times a day. I understand the equipment must be kept cold in order to work properly, but nobody needs to see nips when they pass by me. A true walk of shame complete with the lack of eye contact.

I just want to be comfortable. Perhaps once we figure out how to work the super high-tech central air conditioning in our new apartment, that can be achieved. Most likely I will just sweat and shiver until fall comes and I can open my windows to take in all that nice Brooklyn autumn air.