I have gone on record, multiple times, as stating that I “love summer.”
But as I sit here today in early August, with my back soaked in sweat just from driving home from work and a crushingly overwhelming to-do list as both a parent and a person who works at a school, I have a couple of caveats to that seemingly simple statement of opinion.
- OK, maybe I don’t “love summer” so much as I “hate winter.” Because I really hate winter. Even winter in New Orleans is often too cold for me, and every winter I spent in Missouri was basically life-ruining. When we have cold spells here, I start Googling to see about moving to Southern California or Miami. (I will never actually move to Southern California or Miami.)
- When I said I “love summer,” I meant “reasonable summer.” I meant “high 90s and insane humidity and thunderstorms every day summer.” I did not mean “triple digit heat emergency getting texts about checking on elderly relatives summer.” I meant “two showers and changes of underwear daily summer” and not “just accept that you will be sweaty at all times, even inside, because no one’s AC can keep up with this insanity so it will be 80 degrees inside even though your thermostat is set at 68 and your power bill will be $500 summer.”
- I “love summer” in a city where my trash is picked up more than once every other week. The smell of deeply festering garbage from late July is definitely not improving my mood.
- I “love summer” when it’s actually summer and not the start of school. I can handle either oppressive heat or back-to-school chaos and registration forms and supply lists. I need the city to drastically cool down or schools to start after Labor Day/the peak of hurricane season. It is too hot to try to navigate the completely inexplicable school lunch form system that attempts to cobble together 80 billion charter schools.
None of this will happen, I know. Wish in one hand and spit in the other and all of that. But jeez, it’s so hot and I am so busy and so cranky and so sweaty and surrounded by so much smelly garbage.
But this is the life I chose in the (dysfunctional) city I love (despite all reason), so I will just be over here in my third bra of the day, wiping sweat off of my upper lip and trying to navigate two different school data systems to fill out my kids’ emergency contacts.
Stay safe, everyone, and have a snowball!
