It's been over 90 degrees in my apartment for over 48 hours. Every fan I own has been blowing at full blast and every window I rent has been open. The thermostats in three different rooms (including the coolest room in the house, where my catties have been taking turns curling up on the bathroom tile in the dark) can't register the actual temperatures because they top off at 90.
According to weather.yahoo.com, it's about 86 outside. I've been wondering if my building (I live on the third floor of a multi-unit apartment building, indoor entrances, stuffy hallways, windows only on one side of each apartment) was designed as a part of some kind of a conspiracy or less aggressive disrespect of the economically underprivileged who live here. I'll be fine, I'm "passing papers" (that's what my New England friends "of a certain age" call "signing" or "closing") on a windowrama unit with central air (in New England!!!!) tomorrow. But most of the people who live in my building have no apparent way of escape. The system has them in its hot, humid grips. And it's probably making them mad.
Despite the heartbreaking lethargy of my catties, who can barely drag themselves over to the food and water dishes and both of whom have been squeezing their fat selves into the tiny window ledge wedges and have each allowed me to wipe them down with wet cloths with not a single complaint, I've managed to keep the bad feelings at bay!
How, you may ask, am I not spitting mad from the heat and oppression? Combination of a spiritual miracle, periodic long stands in front of the open refrigerator or freezer door, wiping myself down with a wet cloth, drinking water almost non-stop, and the clencher: endorphins. After each 90 minutes of work I do (studying Spainish and writing administrative emails), I work out on the gazelle for a mile or two. Even while it makes me hotter (my skin gets real red!), incredibly it also renders me calmer, more content.
What would the world be like if grumpy people exercised? We'll never know, because they're too cynical to try it. Stupid heads. Oops! Time for another half hour of gliding.