Home Sweat Home

Know how you can tell if someone is a tourist in San Francisco?

They wear shorts in June.

Yes, for those of you not native (or at least not currently living in) the City by the Bay, you would assume that it follows the rules of most seasons or, another common misconception, that it’s warm ALL of the time being that it is in California.

Wrong. SO Wrong.

You see, the warmest season (aka, "summer") here begins about August and lasts through October. This is the time when the temps heat up and sundresses, et. al are considered nearly mandatory. (And yes, for those of you who still wear SHORTS, those are kosher as well.) However, until August, though we may get some lovely (low-70’s) sort of days (think San Diego with a strong breeze), the warmth of the days does some random stuff to some air current or something and the fog rolls in. (It’s actually beautiful – it looks like white tentacled-clouds are descending upon the city little by little.) Once aforementioned fog takes the hilly city hostage, you’re inundated with wet, cold mist, a freezing breeze, and if you don’t have on at LEAST a sweater and a fleece, you’re in some deep trouble.  Of course, some neighborhoods fall under this more than others, but for the sake of argument, just go with me here.

Due to this VERY temperate climate, apartment buildings don’t have air conditioning. They don’t need it! If you’re hot, open a window! Easy, free, saves electricity: EVERYONE is happy. EVERYONE, of course, except for me.

You see, like the rest of the nation, we’re ALSO undergoing a heat wave. It’s 80+ degrees in the city, and though today was absolutely glorious and lovely and beautiful and provided me with a day of working from home (but actually working from the park), my apartment is anything but. I live on the ground level, have windows without screens, so the only way to even TRY and cool my apartment is to have a fan (check) and put in those little temporary screens (check check) when I’m here. Which, as we all know, is quite rarely, so in my (perpetual) absence, the apartment turns into a sauna-grade hot zone. Not the best of situations with a menagerie.

So, as I ponder the quandary of an air conditioner (I’d have to put it in and out each time I left since it’s super easy to break in with that as well), think good thoughts for me in my land o’ hotness. Home Sweet Home it ain’t…more like Home SWEAT home.

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