Weather report

The rains have stopped. For the last several days, we've been in this weird sort of meteorological lacuna: it isn't the monsoons (I guess. I mean, that whole concept is getting frustratingly slippery), and it isn't the hot season. Granted, "seasons" are quantitatively subtle here. A couple of weeks ago, if you looked at the Mumbai 10-day forecast, it'd be a nunblemished sea of 93s (add 10 degrees for the concrete jungle effect and humidity, of course). If you look at it now, it's an unbroken string of 88s. I'm not complaining; qualitatively, the difference is huge, and it's actually rather pleasant out. Except it's as if the whole city has PMS. Everyone's just a tad edgy: yo, Nature, let's just get on with it, already.

Speaking of things that change with how the wind blows, I've mentioned how I'm sort of burned out on my job, right? I almost wish I hadn't seen it, but there's a vacancy announcement in The Economist for a staff writer for a UN agency in Rome. Now, I'm thinking, as keywords go, "Rome" and "writer" and "UN" are three very fine ones. ("Rural agricultural development" is less so, but I figure it'd at least be morally less draining than what I'm doing now.) There're drawbacks, of course. Major ones. As in, it's a one-year appointment with no guarantee of renewal. But, hey, no harm in applying, right?