86 degrees is the temperature at midnight in Oklahoma City.
The A/C at my office has been broken for over a week now.
There's absolutely NOTHING cooling us down except for fans. My studio is in a room without windows. Everyday when I arrive at work, I feel like a beaten man.
This is all coinciding with an intense heat wave in Oklahoma City (luckily, things will start "cooling down" later this week; highs will only be in the mid-90s).
I thought I'd write a poem about it.
Ode to a Broken Air Conditioner
down my forehead
smearing the illustration
I struggle to realize
My crotch is not a crotch
But a microclimate
Dank and dire
It is a world that knows not relief.
'Ere, but I shan't complain
Early peoples did not have A/C
Heat was hot
Crotches were damp
Still, I rage
I rage, rage
against the dying of the A/C
And that has made all the difference.