Remember last summer when every. single. post. I wrote had at least half a paragraph complaining about the summer heat? Did you miss it? You did? Fabulous. Because it’s coming back full force.

It got pretty warm this week. And not just “wow, it was pretty hot in the afternoon!” but more, warm all day, and sleeping with the fans on warm. I had a little bit of warning, at least. Last weekend, all anyone could talk about was how it’d be 40*C/100*F on Friday. It was whispered around the trade show I was working, in ominous tones like the heat was an advancing army and everyone should prepare for an invasion.

All week at work we geared up for it, counting down the days with “oh, yeah, it was warm today. Friday’s just going to be worse!” and “Just wait til Friday! 45 degrees!” and “Have you planned what you’ll wear? Make sure it’s breathable. It’s going to be a hot one on Friday.” and “Has everyone bought a water bottle? It’s going to be really hot on Friday.” mind you, I work in an air conditioned office with very little manual labor. But when I woke up Friday morning to a balmy room and my hair plastered to my cheek, I knew the invasion had begun, and the weather was going to suck.

Walking to the bathroom made me sweat. I ran a shower and wondered what was even the point – I’d just need 3 more before bed. Getting dressed made me sweat. I was sweaty and cranky and it was 21*C/70*F before 8 AM.

Once I got to work, I didn’t go back outside. We had a temperature update seemingly every 10 minutes. And the mercury just never stopped climbing. At one point, it was 43*/109*F, and that was when the a/c at work flat out stopped. At that moment, I thought of my bus route home: the first bust I catch comes from Coogee beach. It’s been awesome – reliably on time and not always crowded – until this week, when the beach crowd showed up. Wednesday and Thursday I had to wait 35-50 minutes for a bus that wasn’t loaded to the gills with teenagers in wet swim suits making all the bus seats damp. That’s a long time to wait in the boiling sun. So faced with possibility of literally roasting in the crazy heat for an hour, I decided to catch a cab home. I sat with the back seat a/c vents pointed right at me, and I was home in 30 mins, not 90. Best $30 I’ve ever spent.

As I walked up the stairs in my building and toward our apartment door, I could feel the temperature rising. It was like our place was generating a heat shield and I had to pass through it to gain entrance. I walked through the thick wall of humidity and into our hot, hot, air conditioning-less apartment and saw Joel sweating and sitting in front of a fan that was just blowing hot air back at him I knew… this summer’s going to be so hot. Especially after being so spoiled by autumn and winter and this blessedly extra long, unseasonably cool spring.

I had little hope that the temps would actually drop over night like the weather channel predicted, but we woke up to grey skies and low temps, and for that I am forever thankful. One day was enough. But shit. Friday was a grim reminder that the death of summer is almost here. Soon it’ll be mid December and 108*F will be the norm. Summer is stretching its legs and crawling slowly back into my life, to take residence and make me a sweaty monster until April.

Oh boy.

Time for frozen wash cloths and cool showers and terrible summer allergies and hanging out in the tub filled with cold water and standing wet in front of the fan to feel the chill. Time for scheduling activities for when you’re least likely to suffer heat stroke. Time to once again feel waht it’s like to stand in a puddle of my own sweat. Time to put away EVERY item of winter clothing and EVERY blanket because looking at them will make you sweat. Time to shave my legs everyday, because pants will no longer be an option.

But, in the essence of positivity, it’s also the time for hanging out at the beach, two weeks off for Christmas, eating dinner outside, picnics, coffee in the park, and daylight until almost 9 PM and being able to do 4 loads of laundry in a day because everything dries in like, an hour.

I mean, regardless of the nice things summer brings, chances are still pretty high that I’ll burst into flames or wilt away in a dehydrated mess.

But… we live in hope.