A Sunday Morning Miracle

I must be in an episode of the Twilight Zone.

Singapore is hot, really hot, and humid, really humid.  If I could change anything about Singapore, the weather would be at the top of my list.

This is the perspective of a man who grew up in Tennessee, a state in America where summer temperatures rise to 100 degrees Fahrenheit/37 degrees Celsius, and the humidity level frequently reaches 100%.

The difference in America is that such weather occurs for only three months, and then the gloriously-refreshing, cool autumn temperatures arrive. In Singapore, the weather never changes with one hot/humid day leading into the next.

It's the Singaporean equivalent of Bill Murray's winter-weather forecast in the movie Groundhog Day. Just replace the words "cold" and "gray" in his dialogue with "hot" and "humid" and you've got a snapshot of Singapore's weather in perpetuity.

But this morning something miraculous happened. I awoke and actually felt chilly, chilly enough to consider the possibility of putting on a windbreaker.

Surely there must be a reason. 

I checked to see if the air conditioner had flipped on spontaneously. Nope.

Perhaps, I was running an extreme temperature and was delirious. Nope.

I'll never know the cause, and the feeling has long since passed now that the 9 a.m. sun has heated up the temperature to 80 degrees.

Soon, I'll once again be drenched in sweat, but at least for a few fleeting moments, I escaped the oppressive tropical heat, if only in my imagination.