Airhead
The hot days have arrived in the land I now call "residence". In truth, they had already arrived a few weeks earlier, but this week they decided to turn the blowtorch up even higher.
Temperatures jumped from lows and highs between 10°C ~ 20°C to 20°C ~ 36°C. And we are still in spring.
For my coworkers who live in much colder and rainier countries, tropical temperatures like these may seem wonderful at first glance. They really would be wonderful if I had brought from my homeland the habit of some of my coworkers who used to take their laptops to the beach and spend the whole day there, enjoying the heat, the sea, and, why not, the beer.
Unfortunately, in this respect, I have to admit that I am a bit too "fresh", perhaps even in the literal sense of the word. For my productivity, however it may be measured and/or quantified, drops vertiginously on days like today.
I have with me a fan 60 cm in diameter and with fairly strong power, left over from a “divorce” with a childhood friend who became my roommate in these lands. In its more than five years of service, the fan has only one chronic problem: a missing safety pin, which means it always has to be carried by its very heavy base. A defect that, in the end, forces the user to carry it the right way.
This will be my great companion over the coming months. Since this country and its condominiums have great affection for the façades of modern, monochromatic buildings, and a house without a balcony has no chance of installing an air-conditioning system, even if temperatures inside reach 33°C.
Meanwhile, I look toward the horizon and see a blue and purple sky. From the fires already afflicting the towns around me, with their plantations of eucalyptus, pine, and other trees so thirsty that they completely dry out the land where they take root. In a country where such monocultures are encouraged by the market and subsidized by the government, the equation always resolves itself in disaster.
Bring on the shower. The cold water already comes out warm.