Hazy, Hot, and Humid

For those of you who aren't aware, before L'Enfant hatched his European Avenue inspired plans for Washington, DC, the diamond-shaped district was pretty much a swamp. During most of the year, you wouldn't really know it, walking up and down the wide streets and popping in and out of the large marble Smithsonian Institution structures, or crowd watching in Dupont Circle. You certainly don't notice when holed up in a K-Street office building, and you'd be wise not to think about it at all when barreling through tunnels under the city on a metro train.

But come summer in DC, you cannot escape the swamp. Despite the relatively cool spring, the swamp air rolled in last week with a vengeance, and hung thick in the air all week long like a Memorial Day house guest who had long overstayed his welcome.

As you can probably tell from my the disgusted tone to this entry, GirlTuesday is NOT a fan of the humidity. I like it fine when I'm sitting pool/beach/lake-side and sunning myself. Or when hiking through a rainforest on vacation. . . But that kind of waft-away-from-the-face, thick, moist air should be reserved for those locales only, and NOT a daunting onslaught, day after day, all summer long.

My hatred is not rooted in a dislike of the weather phenomenon, itself. It is due, almost entirely in part, to the fact that I can't stand having to don work clothes and trek in to the office through the thick summer air. From Memorial day to Labor day, I pretty much have to say farewell to leaving my hair down, and dig out as many quasi-work appropriate t-shirts and shells to wear under with my suits. Or, on the more business-casual days, perhaps a twin-set and summery skirt. I have to slow my walk down a bit, and traipse a bit more like a southerner, so as to arrive with a heathy summer glow, as opposed to being downright soaked in sweat by the time I plop down on my desk.

And, in the evenings, the trick to DC summers is being able to time your departure from the office so as to avoid that afternoon's thunderstorms. This past Friday, gleeful at the thought of being able to leave the office at a reasonable 6 o'clock hour, I was tying up lose ends around the office, only to hear a tremendous clap of thunder shake my windows a mere 10 minutes before I'd planned to leave. Having seen enough of these storms roll through, I knew that the wise thing to do would be to linger at my computer just a little while longer and wait. But not this particular day. I couldn't bring myself to stay a second longer. So I ventured out, into the kind of rain that soaked you from all angles; and the water had come down so quickly that there were 2-4 inches of rushing water headed gushing through the gutters and across the streets. But bound and determined to make it to the metro, I jumped from awning to awning and sloshed through countless puddles until I arrived, a soaked, puddle-causing mess and plopped down on my metro seat.

And to think, it's not even summer yet. . .