Dear Summer of 2016,

You have been vengeful. It was so hot that the chickens were laying hard-boiled eggs. There were times where your air was so thick that I thought my heart was going to stop.

A day didn’t go by where I had to get into my car, and feel like I was entering an oven at 450 degrees (or more). Even the car shade cover didn’t help. Also, I learned my seatbelt could make a great branding iron.

No outfit I wore lasted me more than four hours due to the massive amount of sweat I had accumulated in a small amount of time. For example, when I impulsively thought taking a walk in Marine Park was a good idea (it wasn’t).

Whenever I exited my vehicle or the house, a stifling heat would hit me in the face and almost knock me down.

A baseball game? Think again. Between your skin sticking to the seats because you have no attire choice but to wear shorts or dresses, and the price of a bottle of water on average at $4.00, I don’t know what was worse.

Each day that passed by I relentlessly wished for more comfortable weather that didn’t involve me complaining about the heat. Although, once it does get colder, I’m sure I’ll be whining about that too (go figure).

My shower was my best friend. It was the only place where I could control the temperature (besides my air conditioned room). Cold water was my newly found safe haven.

A day at the beach? Ha. More like a date with Satan. I will never understand how people can lay out at the beach for more than five hours and fry their bodies like well-done hamburgers.

When a friend offered me a ride somewhere, and they rolled up with the windows down, I thought I wasn’t going to make it.

My cat was traumatized by the heat. There wasn’t a day that went by where he wasn’t looking at me with his black, gold-rimmed eyes, telling me (because I speak cat) “please help.”

Regardless of the suffering and emotional damage you caused me, I’ve made memories and friends that’ll last a lifetime, and for that, I thank you, the summer of 2016.