I hear there are record highs in New York.
If I still lived there I would be excited about not needing my North Face vest for a few days. I would tell everyone it was my type of weather and that I lived in the wrong region.
I don’t need to do that anymore. It’s supposed to be in the 90s here today. We’ve slept with the AC on the past week. The only time I’ve worn pants and long sleeves is when I’m sitting in my co-working space, and that’s only because the AC is cranking.
I honestly never realized how much I relied on the seasons to mark the passage of time. I’ve now lived in Austin for about six weeks. Other than having a slightly more furnished apartment and not needing GPS every time I get in the car, there’s no obvious indication that it’s been six weeks. One day has kind of blended into the next. They’re all pretty hot. They’re all mostly sunny. I wear a lot of athletic gear and shower at least twice a day.
I’m also realizing how much the seasons influenced my drive. Whether I liked it or not, there were clear demarcations reminding me of how much time had passed. Shorter, colder days with barren trees and biting winds. Longer, warmer days where leaves casually waved as I passed underneath. Every three months something changed. That meant every three months I did a mini-evaluation about where I was and what I wanted to do next – personally and professionally.