Today I will rant

Ah, central Texas.

Where May feels like July and July feels like, well ... July. Actually, in nearly every month, save January, February, November and December, we are just as likely as not to have at least one day that feels like mid-July. And to be quite honest, neither February nor November deserve to be exempted - the temperature in Austin, Texas reached 87.1 degrees on November 1, 2008 and on February 22, 1996 -- get this -- 99 degrees. February, people. I could even quite reasonably make the argument that January and December don't belong in the list either, but I choose to cling to the delusion that winter does exist.

There is a reason my dear Aunt Liz refuses to come to Texas.

And that reason is this: It's not the heat, it's the humidity.

Or, more accurately: It IS the heat AND the humidity.

Yesterday was one of those days here in central Texas where the heat is just plain, in-your-face oppressive. One of those days where you walk outside and immediately wonder, Why, exactly, did I bother to shower today? The sad thing is, it wasn't even that hot yesterday. Our high was only 84 degrees. You may say, 84 degrees sounds nice. Oh, but you are mistaken. You see, it's the humidity. As I was walking outside, the air was a palpable presence surrounding me, like a heavy, sopping, suffocating blanket. I imagine I could have had a conversation with this pervasive entity, which would have gone something like this:

Me: Get off me!
Air: Ha-ha! Why did you bother to shower today?

The gentle breeze that drifted across my face brought no relief, as it ought, but only more of the thick, damp, warm air.

Today, more of the same.

I think Aunt Liz may be onto something.