You Heard it from the Horse's Mouth, This Heat Wave Will Kill.

NEW YORK -- As I write my one lonely fan tries and fails to stir up a breeze. My cramped apartment has turned into an oven and all my thoughts turn to the now forgotten days of winter. You see I didn't think to buy an air-conditioner for my apartment. That was before this heat wave struck. I figured I'd save on two hundred bucks, by instead purchasing a fan for twenty. They say we learn from our mistakes, but I might not survive mine.

I work in central park, vending drinks to the passersby. My job revolves around the weather, and this weak it died. Yesterday I tasted the full brunt of the suns deathly rays, sweat glistening my brow, and no customers in sight. Who would walk in the park when they could be swimming in the gorgeous sea? The sea, it filled my mind, causing me to wish that time would pass quickly and knowing it wouldn't. I had left my fan on in my room and my one condolence was imagining the cool air that awaited me. At six, business ground to a halt, and I was told I could go home. The majority of my coworkers had called in with any excuse they could use to not show up. I however, being naive, did not bother to check weather reports, and by the time I learned it was much too late to back out.

"But hooray! Now I could rush home early and relax in my room." How our thoughts mislead us... The apartment waited for me of course, but as I entered, I was reminded of a flight to St Marten I once took, where upon landing realized it wasn't wise to have worn a sweatshirt. I stripped quickly but didn't shower, instead with sore feat I fell upon my couch, shirtless and hoping it'd be enough. An hour later I was on the verge of a meltdown. My sweat had already drenched the couch and I found myself in a constant state of rotation. Rotating my torso to get the wettest part of myself air bound and the driest against the couch. Then the scratching commenced, somehow my fan had blown little pieces of dirt onto me, little pieces I'm afraid to say that stuck to my sweat soaked body.

I itched, scratched, and rotated, but nothing I did could possibly save me. The hours sank by; I tried to amuse myself, anything to keep my mind off the physical insanity that knocked at the door. In the kitchen I stuck my head in the freezer and sighed as the coolness blossomed around me. Regaining my sense of self, I went back to my couch, where I nearly passed out. The change from cold to heat was mind-boggling. I'd never experienced such utter heat before, if it was dry heat I might have managed, but the humidity sent what had seconds before been a dry man, into a cringing mass of liquid death.

I threw myself on my bed, desperate for some relief, anything that would drive out the physical torture I endured. An hour it took before it dawned on me to go to the bathroom, lay on the cool marble floor, and attempt to get some sleep. I did as the voice commanded, thinking back it was probably my suffocating conscience trying to save itself. Thankfully it worked, and I slept like a baby till morning.

Sadly misery didn't end there and I've spent today repeating the painful process. Winter comes in four months, and as of this writing, I couldn't wish for anything more. You can always add more layers, but there's a limit to what you can take off.