All of my favorite summer anthems seem to hint at an underlying distrust of this time of year. Whenever it’s winter, I always claim that I can’t wait for summer … and then when summer gets here, I waste it by becoming moody and indulging in all of my favorite anxieties.
According to some of my most memorable summers, this time of year has become an opportune time for me to do any of the following:
1. Get bent out of shape over a boy
2. Get bent out of shape over my future (or lack-thereof)
3. Consider the off chance that I might have parasites
4. Begin watching daytime soaps
5. Save money as if I were single-handedly supporting myself
6. Spend money as if I were single-handedly supporting a family of two
7. Acquire a new place of employment
8. Not leave the house
9. Become unsociable
10. Become (and remain) at odds with family members
11. Google “get rich quick” schemes
12. Wish I had the wherewithal to travel (long or short distances)
13. Attend Girl Scout camp
I hate winter, but summer is perhaps the more genuinely depressing of the two seasons.