Unless you live under a rock, in an air conditioned bubble, in Seattle, or in the southern hemisphere, you are well aware that it is blisteringly hot out there. And living in a city that was essentially built on top of a swamp does nothing to help this situation (oh, the humidity!).
I’ve noticed a distinct polarization in heat-complaints on Twitter and Facebook, divided up by where one resides. The city-dwelling folk, reliant on feet and sweltering un-air conditioned city busses, are dying. We arrive to work drenched in sweat, light-headed, and longing for the cold temperatures of winter. On the other hand, we have the suburbanites, who choose to complain about the city people complaining about the heat. “It’s summer… it’s SUPPOSED to be hot!” or “I don’t understand what’s so bad, just stay inside” continue to pop up across my social media streams.
Ah, the luxury. I have a legitimate phobia of having to move to the suburbs some day, but right now, it almost sounds appealing… leaving my central-air conditioned house, walking 10 steps to my air conditioned car, driving to work in climate controlled luxury, walking 200 steps across the parking lot, and heading straight into my air conditioned office (stopping, of course, to chat about how that dash across the parking lot was a little toasty).
But instead, the reality of a city girl is walking 1.5 miles each way with a heat index of 115. It’s so humid, my hair hasn’t fully dried since last weekend. And central air conditioning? Who can afford such a luxury on a graduate student stipend? I have a window unit in my bedroom which normally does okay, but it just can’t keep up with this kind of heat – running full blast when I’m home, it’s still stuck at 86 in here, but at least that’s livable.
The living room and kitchen, however? Last night when I returned home, the thermostat registered at 102 degrees. Inside. In my living room. So, I’ve decided to do what any poor graduate student does in an unfortunate situation – come up with a way to profit from it.
I’m going to open a sweat lodge. I hear they’re all the rage among the new-age crowd. What’s the going rate for a weekend of spiritual cleansing at a sweat lodge? I’ll offer a 50% discount to come hang out on my couch this weekend. Surely a couch is more comfortable than sitting on the dirt floor? If 102 isn’t toasty enough, I can turn on the oven, which typically gets the kitchen up to around 115, and I can feed you baked goods while you sweat all the calories right back out!
Need a cleansing cultural experience? Stressed about an upcoming grant submission? Need to pray to the manuscript gods while you wait to hear back from Reviewer #3? Book an appointment today at Sugar Scientist’s Sweat Lodge!