WHY IS IT STILL HOT. IT IS OCTOBER. My apartment is a sauna. I am a roasted peanut. I am a salty, sweating, 1950s gentleman who is melting into a tatami mat. Biga Bosso made me work until 11 PM. I am running on fumes and Pocari Sweat. If I die here, please tell my vintage suit collection that I loved them. *sobs into a towel* I need a vacation. I need an air conditioner. I need a miracle.