“Prepare to breath water,” one of my friends said when I announced I was on my way home. August has got to be the month when every New Orleanian asks themselves (perhaps hourly), “What am I doing here?”
I’ve lived in the semi-arid west most of my life, so I never quite understood when people responded “But at least it’s a dry heat,” to complaints about the weather. Now I do. I just got back from 2-1/2 weeks in Montana, and while the daytime temperatures there were about the same as here (91F), the humidity there was only 5%, compared with an average of about 90% here. Here you step outside at 9am and you immediately feel sort of disgusting. Of course, that’s partly because the low during the night was only 80, and so it’s still quite warm at breakfast time. In Montana, the temperature would drop 35 degrees overnight, and didn’t peak until about 3pm, so the first half of the day was pleasant. There, too, a thunderstorm would mean cooling, here it just means more humidity.
But hey, I’m a writer, we don’t need to go outside, right? Hey NOLA, if you need me, I’ll be in my room. With the A/C on. Until November.