Does anyone else hate summer as much as I do? I think I have always been an autumn type of girl. I like sipping hot coffee and tea out of a large mug. I think a cold gray day is perfect when spent next to a crackling fireplace. I love fuzzy pajamas and hand-knitted blankets.
I have never seen the appeal of summer. Summer means sweaty, sticky, and feeling grimy. Summer means that you have to shave every bit of your body every day of the week. Never-ending heat means makeup smears, hair goes wild and too much skin is revealed. I like the classy look of a good sweater, dark jeans, and sexy boots. I’m not nearly as much into shorts, uncomfortable sandals, and tank tops exposing a sweat-soaked bra. Summer means a can of bug repellent in your purse and overpriced water in the city.
Summer had its appeal when I was a kid and in school. Back then summer meant sleeping in, endless days goofing off and family trips with swimming pools. As an adult, it means having your work clothes soak the moment you sit in the car. As an adult, summer means watching Europeans frolic on holiday while we Americans with our “Puritan Work Ethic” work our butts off all summer. Seriously—two weeks off?! That’s another subject altogether.
I’m ready for cool days. I’m ready for pumpkin patches and fall sales. I miss my peppermint mocha in a holiday themed cup. And no, I will not be changing my tune in February when it is normally frigid outside. I actually like spending time outside when it’s frosty. You can actually warm up if you take a brisk walk. Bookstores, cafes, museums, and clothes are at their best when there is a chill in the air. I miss the magical feeling that comes with decorating the house and preparing for family reunions. Come on, summer, you’ve worn out your sweaty welcome.