Working in San Dimas and driving a black truck with no air conditioning is clearly penance for some past sin. I don’t recall ever doing anything that deserved this level of suffering though, so perhaps it is Fate’s way of punishing me in advance. Whatever it is, I am going to make damned-well-sure that I enjoy it.

A lot.

Those of you that say you like the heat: you don’t. You think you do; but, I’m afraid you’re mistaken. You like the idea of heat. You like the heat from your air conditioned car to the air conditioned restaurant. You like the heat warming you up after spending too much time in the freezer section of the supermarket before you get back to your climate-controlled homes.
You do not, however, enjoy the heat of driving to and from work in 95 degree palpable atmosphere for an hour at a time. You do not like the heat that your car seems to produce on it’s own, without prompting, that makes it consistently and unperturbedly hotter than the outside air, no matter how many windows and vents you open.
You do not like the heat. Trust me.

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