Texas or New York?I'm often asked by New Yorkers, "Is it hotter in Texas or New York?" And on days like today, I seriously wonder. Maybe hotter is not the right tool to measure by, but humidity. Afterall, Manhattan is an island. And today is one of those days. It's a day when everyone is talking about the weather.
It's draining. It's miserable- there is nowhere to get away from the sticky heaviness that lurks about on every corner and begs for you to give in. Give into the soft serve ice cream cone for lunch. Give into pulling your hair into a nice frizzy bun. Give into lugging an extra shirt to work to change into once you make it to the office- where it's not much cooler. Give into the idea of throwing yourself in front of the bus that you've been waiting on for seven scorching minutes.
It's not 100 degrees. It's 91. And, unlike Texas, there is always a breeze (which is why short "flirty" skirts are a very, very risky wardrobe choice.) But, on days like today, in a city where I already feel as if there are always people pressing in on me on all sides, I feel it even more. I am more aware of the closeness of passersby and buildings and the four walls of my own home. Even my skin feels too close.
It's just an inescapable, burdensome heaviness; like the first hours of the flu. Achy, tired, laggard & indifferent. I was starving at lunch but settled for a Luna Bar. Even eating sounds like too much work.
I think it just needs to rain. Or something.
No comments:
Post a Comment