There is a heat wave currently enveloping New York and it is killing my will to live.
I left for the gym this morning – at 6:30 – and it was already 80 degrees outside. It seems to me that there is something very wrong about that.
I should be able to be outside at 6:30 in the morning and not have my neck sweat.
My neck was sweating!
I didn’t even know that my neck could sweat and it made me think that maybe today was not my day and this was a sign from Jesus or Mother Nature or Al Sharpton or someone Weird And Mystical like that saying that I should just stay home.
But somehow I left my apartment anyway.
I don’t understand how heat waves even happen.
Obviously someone pissed off Mother Nature, and I bet it was Father Time.
I’ve heard that he was a bit of a player and I bet he didn’t call her even though he said he would and that lead directly to my neck sweat.
And on top of all this sweat the heat wave is making New Yorkers act irrational, which is really saying something.
When I left the gym to come to work, I didn’t even have to wish death upon anyone for walking too slow because everyone was in such a hurry to get to their respective air conditioned buildings that they all walked at appropriate speeds.
Not one death wish during my entire walk to the office!
That makes me uneasy.
If I can’t say, “What the fuck is wrong with you???” At least three times before ten in the morning, then I just don’t quite feel right.
Some people need their coffee – I need my offensive comments.
So thanks a lot Father Time, not only are you making me sweat like Brad Pitt when Angelina says, “I’m thinking I need another baby, new continent this time – Australia!” you are also making me seem nice to my fellow New Yorkers.
Let’s make a deal.
If you give Mother Nature a call I’ll make sure that she doesn’t wear the granny panties this time, and it’ll make everyone’s life much, much better.