Since I'm now old and more affected by cold ("It's true because it rhymes," said Morgan Freeman), I've vowed not to complain about heat unless it's 100 or above, and to try not to complain even then. I've had chances to test that this summer, the rare one with above-100 temps in Portland. I was here in July 2009 when we hit 106, one degree shy of the all-time recorded temp here; this summer we've gotten up to 104. Still, I've managed (so far) not to complain, and say instead "at least there's a breeze." THAT'S STAYED TRUE. It means sweat can do the job it's meant to do, and evaporate in that breeze so you (I) cool down.
Mixed blessing of a breeze today, though: this morning Portland was finally hit by the smoke from fires to the northeast (and some to the east and west) of us. Central Washington is in bad shape, and I hadn't really realized how bad until a couple of days ago. And then I walked outside this morning, and saw a warning-red sun rising through the smoke, and then realized that a little better. Still, after getting back home, I had the bedroom window open for air movement, until I saw the online notice that boiled down to Yep, breathing the outside air is unhealthy. Get inside and close windows. So I did.
But the smoke won't settle. Unless the breeze stops doing its job. Keep doing it, OK? You're doing decently so far...