I'm sick of sweating

it's so hot.

it's 1:03 in the morning and it's so hot i can't sleep. the sweat pours down my face and tickles my cheeks and roll down into the corners of my lips. i can feel it trickle down the left side of my neck, down my back along the side of my spine. i wipe the moisture from my forehead with the back of my hand. my eyes close. i yawn, my mouth open wide. my eyes roll around as they open, slowly, as if they are stuck together. i yawn again.

this is the week everyone told me about. the week where it's so hot you don't want to do anything. you don't want to go out because any physical exertion (ie, walking to the bus stop, wearing clothes) will cause trailers of sweat to pour from your body and dehydrate you in an instant while you melt into a colorful puddle of patchwork, your spiral bone earrings and glass necklace the only things that don't evaporate into the humid mist that covers chicago.

this is where air-conditioning comes in handy. but, as sophia said at dinner tonight, it's not good for the body to go from humid, hot but fresh air to freezing cold, dry and stale freon shit. and, all that recycled air is as good for you as a bunch of sick people on a 14 hour flight.

besides, it's an energy hog.

oh, but i yearn to wrap myself in my silky green comforter, to cuddle with my pillow and drift off to sleep. i'd love to turn the aircon down to 18 degrees celsius and put on comfty flannel pants and an oversized mens shirt to sleep in. i miss the fresh, crisp summer breezes of the northwest. i miss the way it can be cold enough to wear a poncho at night in the middle of july.

i yawn again and wake up from my daydream. as the cold breezes quickly fade from memory, the thought of anything thick against my skin makes the sweat produce twice as fast on the back of my neck. i turn my fan up to 3.