My car thermometer read 35C on the way into town today.
Yes. It's 35C in Montreal today. With the humidity factored in, that's around 41C.
In Fahrenheit, that's about a jillion. A bajillion maybe. It was hotter here than Khadahar. Which is situated in a desert. Also, hotter than New Delhi.
Seriously, walking outside it's like being smothered slowly by a really fat guy while standing in a vat of soup.
No, our house is not air-conditioned. Our bedroom is. However, my husband (who is bothered by nothing and no one) refuses to turn it on when he sleeps because "it will make my head cold."
I want a cold head. I can't sleep while I'm being smothered by a fat guy in a vat of soup.
Why am I not here, I hear you asking from your more moderate climes anywhere in the world, and that includes the Sahara, the Gobi and the Kalahari?
Because I'm off to Toronto. Where the heat is just as bad, just as unrelenting I'm told.
To quote the Wicked Witch of the West, "I'm melting, meeeeelting."