It was 72 degrees outside today.
Which means it was room temperature outside.
It also means that soon will begin my epic yearly battle with the temperature of my office will begin.
My office building, being run by cheap-skate security obsessed assholes, refuses to turn on the air conditioning until the last possible second before some obscure deadline set forth years before Global Warming turned Manhattan into the burning sunspot of humidity it is today.
Now, I normally love sweat. Love it. I like the perspiration infused greasy shine I kick off like some hastily wiped butter spill on a flesh colored kitchen counter. But damnit, I don’t need to look all sexy at work, I need to be focused.
Eventually of course, they turn on the air conditioning TOO much and I’ll have the arctic cone of cold blasting down on my forehead giving me sinus infections galore by the time June hits its stride.
Speaking of A/C is anyone else continually perplexed as to how people used to live without it in the past? I mean, back in the day clothiers everywhere were securely in the pocket of Big Wool and you couldn’t go anywhere without like eight layers of wool undergarments.
It gets SO hot here in just my apartment WITH air conditioning that I routinely hang out buck ass nekkid, much to my roommate’s disgust and certainly without his permission. So how the hell did those old timey chin strap beard guys do it?
I have no idea.
Though it might explain the South as a whole.