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Ready For Fall: A Tribute To My Fellow Summer-Haters

Yesterday in Ontario, temperatures reached a solid 30 degrees Celsius, making it the first official summer day of spring. And honestly, I get it: for a little while, I sat working on my deck, telling myself this was exactly how I was ready to spend the next three months. And then I went outside and the realization hit me: I hate this.

I hate so much of summer. I love 0-25 degrees (a generous window). I love the option of wearing pants. I love jackets. I love not wondering if I’m going to pass out or throw up because of how humid it is. I love not going to someone’s pool. Did you know I don’t even own a bathing suit? This is so I will never, ever have to go swimming. I hate swimming. I hate water. I like to drink it and shower in it and watch it in the form of a torrential downpour, and that’s it — that’s the holy trinity. I’ll take open windows and being comfortable in a t-shirt, but that’s it. I’m not a summer person, try as I might. (And I have tried. Believe me.)

So this is the 2017 installment of the list of why I can’t get into this season. Consult it every time you wonder aloud why me or whoever else hates summer is saying, “UGH I HATE SUMMER.” I don’t care about your beach trips. When it’s cold and rainy you will find me yelling in absolute joy.

Summer is terrible because:

  • There is no in-between. It is always freezing or it is so hot that the act of existing is an accomplishment. Last year, I was sitting on my front step writing an essay and both my phone and computer overheated. OVERHEATED. Are you kidding me? GTFO.
  • I always feel like I’m going to throw up or pass out or shit my pants. If you have ever had heat stroke, you know this feeling and you can feel it in this moment as I describe it. I spend 75% of all summer days concentrating on breathing and sipping water. Imagine being locked in a coat room at a party that’s actually filled with coats. And it’s next to a fireplace. And for some reason, you’re drinking boiling hot tea. And you’re so sweaty and warm but there’s no end in sight. You live in the coat room now. You are now the dude in that painting, “The Scream.” Welcome to my life.
  • Everything is water-centric. Everything. Beaches are fine for 10 minutes, max. Water is fine if you are standing in it and it is up to your ankles. No, I will not go in your pool because now I have to apply SPF 482525 to my entire body which like, no thank you. Also, I’m genuinely not interested in your pool. I’m not a swimmer, and I start laughing nervously as soon as my feet can’t touch, and then I start taking on water like the Titanic in the last minutes of its life. It’s bad for everyone. Especially me.
  • Flip-flops are an abomination, and yet we all must look at them for approximately 259258 days. This is a visual assault on us all.
  • There’s too much pressure. There’s pressure to be out all the time, to have fun all the time, to socialize all the time, to enjoy the summer all the time. And, like, no. You know why I like fall and winter? Because it gets dark at like, 6 p.m. and if I don’t want to go out, I don’t feel like I’m “wasting the day.” I think, “Oh wow, it’s late!” but it isn’t and I go to the mall and think, “I can’t believe I’m shopping — AT NIGHT.” But now it’s summer and it’s light outside until like, 2 a.m., and now if I want to go to bed at 10.30 p.m. (WHICH I VERY MUCH ENJOY) I have to compete with the cold light of day. Every summer day should be rainy.
  • As soon as you DO enjoy a summer day, everyone is so quick to tell you how much you really do like summer. And GUESS WHAT? You ruined it. You. Only you. I was having a great time until you reminded me that, “Maybe you DO like summer!” Maybe I DID, you monster. Now I’m counting down until August 29 a.k.a. my birthday when to me, autumn officially begins.
  • Everything smells like BBQ but yet I am invited to zero BBQs. I blame everybody I know for not owning BBQs. All I want are some nice, charred hot dogs.
  • My hair turns into a triangle. I do not look nice.
  • I am perpetually sweaty. I do not look nice.
  • I lose the will to dress well like, one second into a humidex advisory. I opt for glorified pajamas. I do not look nice.
  • You have to read lists like this, and deep down — even if you love summer — you know I’m right. I bet you even low-key want a pumpkin spice latte right now. Well, GUESS WHAT. It’s too warm. And now we’re all going to drink our melting iced coffees as the condensation on the cup drips onto our keyboards. ENJOY IT. YOU LOVE THIS.

Only a month until summer officially begins, you guys. And then only three months after that until fall.

http://29secrets.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/summer-sucks-150x100.jpg Anne T. Donahue Pop Culture ,,,,,,,

Yesterday in Ontario, temperatures reached a solid 30 degrees Celsius, making it the first official summer day of spring. And honestly, I get it: for a little while, I sat working on my deck, telling myself this was exactly how I was ready to spend the next three months. And then I went outside and the realization hit me: I hate this.

I hate so much of summer. I love 0-25 degrees (a generous window). I love the option of wearing pants. I love jackets. I love not wondering if I’m going to pass out or throw up because of how humid it is. I love not going to someone’s pool. Did you know I don’t even own a bathing suit? This is so I will never, ever have to go swimming. I hate swimming. I hate water. I like to drink it and shower in it and watch it in the form of a torrential downpour, and that’s it — that’s the holy trinity. I’ll take open windows and being comfortable in a t-shirt, but that’s it. I’m not a summer person, try as I might. (And I have tried. Believe me.)

So this is the 2017 installment of the list of why I can’t get into this season. Consult it every time you wonder aloud why me or whoever else hates summer is saying, “UGH I HATE SUMMER.” I don’t care about your beach trips. When it’s cold and rainy you will find me yelling in absolute joy.

Summer is terrible because:

  • There is no in-between. It is always freezing or it is so hot that the act of existing is an accomplishment. Last year, I was sitting on my front step writing an essay and both my phone and computer overheated. OVERHEATED. Are you kidding me? GTFO.
  • I always feel like I’m going to throw up or pass out or shit my pants. If you have ever had heat stroke, you know this feeling and you can feel it in this moment as I describe it. I spend 75% of all summer days concentrating on breathing and sipping water. Imagine being locked in a coat room at a party that’s actually filled with coats. And it’s next to a fireplace. And for some reason, you’re drinking boiling hot tea. And you’re so sweaty and warm but there’s no end in sight. You live in the coat room now. You are now the dude in that painting, “The Scream.” Welcome to my life.
  • Everything is water-centric. Everything. Beaches are fine for 10 minutes, max. Water is fine if you are standing in it and it is up to your ankles. No, I will not go in your pool because now I have to apply SPF 482525 to my entire body which like, no thank you. Also, I’m genuinely not interested in your pool. I’m not a swimmer, and I start laughing nervously as soon as my feet can’t touch, and then I start taking on water like the Titanic in the last minutes of its life. It’s bad for everyone. Especially me.
  • Flip-flops are an abomination, and yet we all must look at them for approximately 259258 days. This is a visual assault on us all.
  • There’s too much pressure. There’s pressure to be out all the time, to have fun all the time, to socialize all the time, to enjoy the summer all the time. And, like, no. You know why I like fall and winter? Because it gets dark at like, 6 p.m. and if I don’t want to go out, I don’t feel like I’m “wasting the day.” I think, “Oh wow, it’s late!” but it isn’t and I go to the mall and think, “I can’t believe I’m shopping — AT NIGHT.” But now it’s summer and it’s light outside until like, 2 a.m., and now if I want to go to bed at 10.30 p.m. (WHICH I VERY MUCH ENJOY) I have to compete with the cold light of day. Every summer day should be rainy.
  • As soon as you DO enjoy a summer day, everyone is so quick to tell you how much you really do like summer. And GUESS WHAT? You ruined it. You. Only you. I was having a great time until you reminded me that, “Maybe you DO like summer!” Maybe I DID, you monster. Now I’m counting down until August 29 a.k.a. my birthday when to me, autumn officially begins.
  • Everything smells like BBQ but yet I am invited to zero BBQs. I blame everybody I know for not owning BBQs. All I want are some nice, charred hot dogs.
  • My hair turns into a triangle. I do not look nice.
  • I am perpetually sweaty. I do not look nice.
  • I lose the will to dress well like, one second into a humidex advisory. I opt for glorified pajamas. I do not look nice.
  • You have to read lists like this, and deep down — even if you love summer — you know I’m right. I bet you even low-key want a pumpkin spice latte right now. Well, GUESS WHAT. It’s too warm. And now we’re all going to drink our melting iced coffees as the condensation on the cup drips onto our keyboards. ENJOY IT. YOU LOVE THIS.

Only a month until summer officially begins, you guys. And then only three months after that until fall.

annetdonahue@gmail.com Author Anne T. Donahue is a writer and person who lives just outside of Toronto and knows way too much about the Great British Bake Off. 29Secrets

About the author

Anne T. Donahue

Anne T. Donahue is a writer and person who lives just outside of Toronto and knows way too much about the Great British Bake Off.

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