Heat Wave

It is very hot outside.

In the north, when it hot outside the temperature seems to rise as the day comes to a close. Seriously. How is that possible. Isn't it suppose to get cooler in the evenings.

This is very disturbing to me. In the south, I'm use to the heat tapering off at night, almost to the point where you forgot that it just tried to kill you. Here, the mornings are cool followed by a hot afternoon and an scorching evening. And by the time the heat does let up, you have passed out from heat pains.

Case in point: I just got out of work and I feel all kinds of worn out by the heat. It feels like a sauna outside, and I sort of dragged my feet all the way home to the sound of fire trucks and police cars.

It was a slow and long closing shift. I walked into work feeling a little antsy and sick. The high today was like 97, the humidity made it feel like 103 and it didn't helped that i am all out of sorts about this job thing (the not having one and the wanting one). At the store, the managers want to cross train me in cafe, but they do not have a good track record of relinquishing you once you've stepped foot up there. I have no desire to get trained in cafe. I applied for a bookseller position, i know books. That's it.

Being in the cafe, even with the managers promising that it's only to familiarize me with the cash register, scares the crap out of me. Not because I don't want to serve coffee and deal with the dumb touch screen register (that has a little to do with it) but because, is this it? My grand advancement at work? I know that training me in cafe means I will be trained in all aspects of the store. This would be impressive if being a bookseller was a career for me. But it's not and part of my reasons for remaining a part time employee is to remind myself of this.

And they are offering me this opportunity as some form of advancement. To say hey, this is one more skill you will have that only a few in this store possess. The cafe manager told me it was a 'step in the right direction'. But I feel bad for not wanting it. I feel bad for not giving a shit because I don't want to go in that direction.

Nothing has been set in stone, and I have voiced my aversion to this temporary placement, but I'm still scared and nervous and beyond ready to move on from this place, and quick. But how?

While I was dealing with this aspect of my life, Evan (happy drunk guy from party) stopped me in an aisle and apologized for anything he might have said or did at the party this weekend. It was literally the first thing he said when he saw me. I thought this was weird, because outside of hugging me a little too comfortably, he was a jovial drunk.

But he kept asking 'how I was doing' and then reiterating 'about the other night'. This made me feel really weird and awkward. He looked guilty and embarrassed, and I wanted to ruffle his hair and tell him it was going to be OK.

In all honesty, I don't really know what he was attempting to apologize for. I wanted to tell him that he didn't do anything. But i do wonder what it is he thinks he did, and if it's the 'back craddle' thing I want to giggle. But I felt his tension the whole night, and this made me want to cry.

The heat has a way of isolating you in a crowd of familiar faces. When faced with your own dehydration and general yuckiness, you can be in your own head too much to worry about the person next to you. And while Evan was treading lightly around me, I was thinking about work, the manager was complaining about the heat I could feel how disconnected we felt from that place and each other. It's not to say that we were dismissive of one another during this close, but we were all too wrapped up confronting our own thoughts and fears to care.

The first short story I ever wrote revolved around a heat wave that causes a black out in a brownstone. I can't help but think about this story as the local TV anchors predict blackouts because of the heat and subsequent AC use. The story was your very typical 'the occupants come out to examine each other and their surroundings because of the power outage' sort of plot and the completion of it nearly drove me crazy.


After a week of late nights and tired eyes, the story focused on this one couple inside the now powerless brownstone, having to confront one another in the time that the power is out. I kept coming back to this idea that heat is the embodiment of tension and in that sense what the heat wave brings about is a realization that their relationship is on the brink of falling apart because of their inability to communicate in the silence. Their confrontation at the end is made evident by my allusions to what heat embodies. This sort of suffocating all encompassing fear that you can't breathe, even when you can feel your chest rising and falling.

And I'm sort of understanding why I wrote that story, as I sweat to death in this house hot. As i feel my own tensions build within me. In the south when it's hot, the evenings are like an old friend you never knew you missed until you see them in passing. The silence doesn't drive you too crazy because the cool air seems to sweep away all of your worries.

But here, the evenings combined with the heat can drive you mad. It seems to bounce off of the buildings and the people and the internal dialogues of strangers and friends with a brutality you never knew existed. The silence doesn't work as well. And you are sort of excited when the morning comes to alleviate all the tension that heat stirs up.

I'm sleepy, I should be asleep now. I'm concerned about these late night post and rants, I don't know if they make sense but my mind is a bowl of jello tonight.

Blame it on the heat.