Tuesday, August 19, 2008

Sick of Summer?

I have a confession to make. Is it controversial? No. Does it make me nervous? Yes. Why? Because it feels naughty. Oh, now I've got your attention. Well, I might just as well admit it.

I am sick of summer.


I know, I know. Terrible, but true. My productivity is inversely related to the heat/humidity index. Sure, there are superhuman people out there who thrive in humid, fire-like temperatures (my hats off to you!), but I'm just not one of them. I get cranky, and whiney, and I turn to ice cream for relief. My body's internal temperature feels on par with the inside of a turkey roaster, and my writing goals have officially taken a backseat to last-minute summer plans.

Every Memorial weekend, my heart sings for joy at the thought of watermelon, beach days, sundresses, and endless hours of sunshine. June, July, and the first weeks of August come and go with me basking in the season. Mid-August hits. I get itchy--no, silly, I don't get a rash!--I just start to feel restless. Suddenly, the watermelon begins to taste ho-hum. The wonderful sun feels irritatingly hot, and I get tired of squeezing into shorts destined never to fit.

And that's when it hits: fall fever. I begin dreaming of red, orange, and yellow leaves. I irrationally get excited to wear jeans (also destined never to fit). Warm sweaters, apple pie, and football games race through my mind. I have visions of writing for hours on end, always with a satisfied smile on my face. Bliss!

Inevitably, November rolls around; I tire of fall and my mind races with visions of perfect holidays and dresses. (You guessed it: destined never to fit.) Can you see the viscious cycle?

I will hang in there. Productivity and normal body temperatures will return in a matter of weeks. Maybe I'll even fit into those jeans this fall. Hey, a girl can dream.

Enjoy the final days of summer!

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