Summer’s officially here, South Florida. It’s the official start of sweat season. We’re wilting. It’s already hot as hell.
We recognize this is a season of misery. These are the longest months of the year, when heat and humidity are so oppressive that we long for the sweet kiss of death (or at least a long vacation in a cooler climate).
Here’s how we know summer is here. For many long months.
We have pit stains on our shirt already and all we’ve done is walk from the front door to the car.
Our car says the temperature in 95 degrees, yet we still have to bring a jacket to work, because the office is going to be sub-Arctic.
We got third degree burns from our seatbelts
WHY IS IT SO HOT? (Technically, it’s not.)
Our hair is drying out because we spent the entire weekend in the pool
Not even the priciest conditioner can help.
Speaking of hair, why are we even bothering to style it?
Humidity is trying to make us all look bad.
The neighbors’ rotten mangoes are all over our yard
Watch where you step.
Traffic is slightly better, but you can’t tell because everyone is driving two miles an hour in the rain
A large percentage of them have their hazard lights flashing, even though it’s illegal.
We plan our lives around afternoon storms
Stay indoors between 3 and 6 p.m. or get soaked.
Our interest in The Weather Channel has skyrocketed
Forget local forecasts. We know how that’s going to go. Sun, thunderous rain, more sun. What we need to know about is that storm forming off Africa and do we really have to go buy more batteries.
We become amateur meteorologists
Raise your hand if you know what the Hebert Box is.
Existential dread keeps us awake all night
Will there be a hurricane this year? Will it hit Florida? Or Miami? Will we endure hardship and a lack of Internet service and for how long? Are we bad people if we really, really hope whatever forms hits someone else?
The a/c broke while we were writing this story
Why does it always work perfectly in January?