As I'm sure you've noticed, the Kirksville heat is still operating at maximum overdrive despite the fact that it's technically fall. At this point, the heat should be long gone, my friends and I agree that it hasn't been this unbearably hot for so long into the school year in the four years since we arrived. Also that it's literally killing me. I'm not being dramatic this time, by the way; I'm actually pretty sure it's killing me.

After growing up in the Midwest, I'm used to all four seasons. I'm accustomed to the bone-freezing cold in the dead of winter, I know how to handle the unyielding humidity of the spring, I'm an expert in navigating the daily temperature fluctuations of the fall (frost in the morning, sweltering by noon), but this. This heat. This truly might do me in.

At this point, complaining about it is entirely moot. Everyone knows it sucks. Everyone is tired of sweating through their clothing just from stepping outside to grab the mail. Everyone is probably already lamenting their water bill, knowing how many extra showers they've been taking just to relieve the overbearing stench of sweat and caked-on grease. So, instead of merely complaining about the heat, I have proposed several possible ways to beat the heat.

1. Fashion a full-body suit entirely out of ice packs.

While it might take you a bit longer to get to class since solid ice/ice pack equivalent probably won't move freely with your joints, it will ultimately be worth it just to keep your body temperature down. My only real concern with this one, though, is how quickly the ice would melt and end up dripping everywhere. You'd basically be a walking lawsuit considering how easily other students might slip on the water you'd be leaking, but if you have no problem with potentially causing bodily harm to others to keep yourself comfortable, this is the best option for you.

2. Don't leave your house.

Seriously, just don't do it. It's not worth it, I promise. There are ways to make this hermit-style living work; technology has advanced in ways we cannot even understand just so that you never have to actually leave the comfort of your home (and your air-conditioning). Never again will you have to face the crippling heat, sweating out all of your body's remaining water and leaving you half-dead in the field behind Barnett Hall. No, you will stay comfortably in bed, and you might even get chilly enough to be able to sleep with a blanket at night.

3. Move.

Just get the hell out of here, man. Go to a place with a milder climate. Go to a place where it's winter all the time. Traipse through the tundra. Anything to escape the stifling heat (and Kirksville, too). Go on adventures. See the world. Go and visit every single Ripley's Believe It Or Not museum around the globe, but by all means, do not stay here.

4. Evolve.

If moving isn't an option and you finds yourself trapped here, destined to be dehydrated for the rest of your days, my only other recommendation is just evolving. Yeah, human evolution has taken thousands of years but like in the grand scheme of things, our species very existence is hardly a blip in time. So, like, I don't know. You could probably make it happen sooner or later. Just focus really hard on it. If this works out for you, please let me know.

5. Set up an elaborate trap to catch it, Scooby-Doo style.

Honestly, at this point, I think to deal with this absurd weather, we should throw logic out the window entirely. After all, it's not like the heat is operating by any sort of logical standards. Therefore, it only makes as much sense as anything else to attempt to capture the heat in some sort of unrealistic trap involving an excessive amount of rope, a piano, and strawberry jelly. Also, it should be noted that this idea came to me in a state of delirium brought on by heat exhaustion after walking across campus. In my more hydrated state of mind, though, I still think it's worth a shot.