So Monday was pretty warm. And by pretty warm I mean it felt like the sun was about to collide with the earth, specifically the city of Schenectady. I was unprepared for my first foray out into the sun baked world. Thinking the weather was going to be warm, but that a light spring breeze would help cool off the air I dressed in a striped sundress, sandals, and a cardigan. Stepping outside at 9, this seemed appropriate attire for the rest of the day. It was hot, but decidedly not as hot as everyone had been telling me it was going to be. I made it through class in Humanities at the perfect temperature in my cardi. This was all about to change.
I immediately went to get lunch and then made my way back to Fox. I didn’t have to leave the room again until 2:30. I donned my cardigan again and headed outside for what I thought would be similar weather to that morning. WRONG. It was blazing hot. I was barely out the door before I started perspiring. I ripped off my sweater and jammed it in my bag, the bag that now seemed to be giving off heat like a live, dog sized creature. I tried to hurry to class at first, dying to be comforted by air conditioning, but that only made things worse. I quickly learned my best bet was to take it slow and to stop darting around like a deranged lizard. I made it to Lippman only relatively sweaty and had a chance to wipe off my sweatstache before entering the over populated building. My first thought upon entering the building was that it really wasn’t much cooler then outside. My second thought was to question why it was so dark inside. That’s when I realized I was still wearing my sunglasses and also when I realized part of my brain had probably fried during the walk over.
I was in for a rude awakening when I stepped into my poetry classroom and realized it was almost hotter then outside. I had forgotten that there were no windows, no air conditioning vents, and no fresh air to breath. I felt like I was suffocating on hot, overly recycled air. To top all of this off I also realized that my partner for our oral presentation that day had failed to show up. Wonderful. I made a mental note to pierce a hole through his soul with my eyes next class and waited for my teacher to enter. She immediately deemed the classroom too hot and set about making preparations for us to be moved to Humanities, aka a building that has rooms with windows. We trekked over to Humanities like a herd of camels whose humps had recently been depleted of all water and made it to the second floor before collapsing in our chairs. The room was barely cooler than the one we had just left, but at this point we were so beaten down I think we would have accepted anything.
By the end of my class my hair was a massive curly frizz ball from the humidity, my body was coated in a sheen of sweat, my legs felt like two dead logs, and my breathing was shallow and irregular from the extra energy it took to breath. Getting out of that classroom was one small pleasure in a day full of almost none. Entering Fox I was greeted by a wave of chilly air and immediately thanked my lucky stars this heat had just descended on the city, allowing the building to retain its coolness. I collapsed on the futon, splayed out like a dead fish, and watched mind numbing television for the next hour with the shades drawn and the lights turned low. I never again want to experience that kind of intense heat on this campus. Old buildings and an explosion of 90 degree weather do not mix well, trust me.