Enough with Summer Already

Friday night. Heading into the long Labor Day weekend. 32 goddam °C. In September. I can hardly bear it a moment longer.

Even my air conditioner has had enough. It alternates between freezing me and refusing to cool anything. But always the fan runs and runs. It’s like living inside a white noise generator.

I go outside. The heat molests me with its sweaty fingers. The sun is too bright. Staring. Insistent and obnoxious. I see now why old people move to Florida. I suppose I am old people. Person. Peop?

I need to go north into the blinding snow, or I’ll go mad. Mad, I tell you.