An Ode To How Much I Dislike Being Cooked Alive In My Own Clothes

For my first few weeks of teaching the very last of the spring weather held fair, but as the summer holidays (natsuyasumi) drew near, the summer heat hit with a fury. Even during my 7am commute the temperature was borderline unbearable, just getting to the station made me feel like I’d wandered into a sauna fully clothed.

The cicadas woke, and everywhere I was followed by their insistent “min min” from trees and telephone poles. I was lucky enough not to have any singing too close to my apartment, so I could actually enjoy the unfamiliar sound without being driven mad by it.

Luckily SA is the only school I have to walk to and from, and the walk isn’t long. However, although I get the bus on the way to SB, I have to walk back. SB is also my hardest school in terms of workload – I barely pause for breath the whole day. To finish that with a 25 min walk in the afternoon heat was not my idea of a good time.

The heat and humidity had the added effect of sucking out all of my students souls and replacing them with syrup. The kids were totally wiped out, especially after running around during their breaks or swimming for Phys.Ed. It took every scrap of energy in my reserve (also drained by the temperature) to get them into the lessons.
Late June to August is also the rainy season here, and the heat cranked up yet another notch in August before winding down into blissful autumn.

Every moment I spent being cooked alive in my work clothes, I dreamed of the reasonable temperature to come in the autumn. It is nice to post this now that I have passed through the summer heat and the autumn, and now I can start complaining about the cold.

This post perfectly sums up my feelings about this:

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