If I had clay with which to form bricks to bake in the attic, once a batch was done done I could simply toss the bricks and their gathered heat into the back yard, and once I had enough of them I could build another house there. The attic of that house could be used to bake more bricks, and with twice as many bricks baking I'd have bricks for yet another house in half the time it took to make the bricks for the second house. Then with three houses in which to bake bricks, then four, etc., it would accelerate until I owned a whole town, and I would be the town's brick king! It would be like perpetual motion, or the miracle of compound interest, (if such things were real.)
Soon I would have many houses that I could rent out, and make enough money that I could afford to run the air conditioner in my own house. Then I would no longer need to bake bricks in my attic just to intercept all that heat. Alas that I have no clay. Lacking that simple material, I must remain poor and overheated. Were the world not badly made I'd have clay in my yard, and my brilliant plan could come to fruition.
Of course it's likely that, were the weather not so hot, my brain would never have become sufficiently fevered to come up with this brilliant plan, so maybe I should be grateful for the heat. Despite my lack of clay, at least thinking about this plan has gotten me through another few minutes that might otherwise have been far more unpleasant to endure. Hey, I wonder if I could harvest the steam that's coming out of my ears? Wow, I think I'm about to invent the thermocephalic generator!
Wait, I don't have time to think about that now. It's almost midnight. Now I must go out and irrigate the plants that grow in the non-clay soil of my yard. This will prevent them from becoming vampiric, creeping into my house as I sleep, rooting into my neck, and drinking my blood. Living here is a constant battle! It's a wonder I get anything done at all. If only I had some clay!