I actually don't mind the weather here in our little Sultanate, but it does take some getting used to.
These are the days, for example, when the heat really starts kicking in - when it's something like 100° by eight in the morning and the fun just goes on from there, with the added feature that it rarely gets all that much cooler at night, at least here on the coast. Within a few more weeks, it won't be rare to see the thermometer flirt with 120° - and no, it is not, in fact, a dry heat.
I try to look on it as the payback for weather from November through April that is basically perfect, more perfect, and heartbreakingly perfect, with four days of rain just to remind us of other climes.
Whenever I start to feel nostalgic for the north, I look at photos like Diane Arbus's study of those perennial orphans of the storm, Dorothy and Lillian Gish. As long as the air-con holds out, I'm perfectly happy with the long-term heatwave, and even Dorothy's pale cuffed mink isn't enough to tempt me back.