Get me out of this.

Heat.

I hate it.

I didn't know what heat was until my first summer here.

I was warned, I'll give you that. I was told "DC is disgusting in the summer."

People leave - that's why there is "August recess"; that's why there is seersucker, and linen, and iced tea, and mint, and lemonade, and air conditioners, and fans, and the list goes on.

But it's not fair - it's not like the kind of heat that when you just lift your arms up and let the air pass under you'll feel better. Nor is it the kind that a run with some sweat gathering on your brow will cool you.

It's like living four inches above a boiling pan of water.

It's like an unreasonable sauna with no way out.

It's heavy and oppressive.

It's wondering why there is such a thing as "shade" when it really doesn't matter.

It's thunderstorms at 5:53am.

It's getting frustrated because if you walk too quickly you'll get sweaty, but if you walk slow you'll sweat.

It's this:

You'll never get used to it; you'll just come to expect it.

I can't wait for fall.