The Heat is back

Unbelievable. You take a short trip to Paris and return to the tropics.
Can barely breath or think straight. Bike to work that used to be so fun is now worse than torture. Let's not talk about running.
When I lived in Willimasburg at least I stayed 10 meters from the bridge and didn't have to commute through any city-landscapes of streets, people etc. But here, after I've run around the bottom of Manhattan I have no option but to mingle amongst people. Through several blocks. Cross Broadway. Through Financial District. During morning-rush-hour.
People are everywhere.
And there's me. A pile of sweat, making his way through with a sad, sad face of anxiety, urge-to-disappear and exhausted meltdown.
Winter, everything is forgiven.