All The Reasons Why Summer Sucks
I’m doing it again. I do it every single year, without exception. Spring flowers bloom, and sun emerges, and blue skies shout HELLO!, and I start to dream about Summer. Misty, blissful, rose-tinted dreams about light evenings and BBQs and bare legs and parks and pub gardens and laying on the grass and Pimms and nice dresses and Joy. I float around in an irritating cloud of OH ISN’T IT LOVELY THOUGH for a couple of months, pointing out cherry trees and ice cream vans and bluebells. And then, around mid-June, I transform into a snarling ball of hatred. Why? Because I’d forgotten that SUMMER SUCKS.
Common phrases around the Ball Of Hatred time include: IT’S TOO BLOODY HOT. WHY IS IT SO MUGGY. MY HAIR IS A RUG. THE LAWN NEEDS MOWING AGAIN?!?! Yep, every single year without fail, I forget that Summer Sucks big hairy catkins. And so, this year I’m going to temper my expectations. I’m going to be sensible and pragmatic and remember all the misery to come.
Yeah, I bet you’re rolling your eyes and thinking: “What a stupid woman! Summer? Summer sucks?! What is she on??”. However, you should bear with me, because I’ve pulled together a list for you. A handy list, to remind you that summer is NOT a pool of delight, but rather the exact opposite. Summer sucks. Despite the below image being what you always THINK summer is going to be like, it’s actually a boiling pit of torture and pain. Here’s why…
Oh yeah, sunglasses are AWESOME, right? Wrong. I mean, they look great, and I love them, and I’ll happily buy 50,000 pairs but…sunglasses marks. You know. Those annoying marks on the sides of your nose. No matter what type of sunglasses you wear, those marks NEVER go away. And your carefully-applied makeup? Totally smeared off. Thanks, sunglasses. Thanks for ruining my face.
Surely everyone above a certain size is nodding their heads right now. And guys, that size is a LOT smaller than you’d think. Having thighs that touch in any way is more often than not part of being human, and when you’re walking around in the summer heat and those thighs are cuddling and getting intimate… Well. Cuddling becomes rubbing, rubbing becomes chafing, chafing becomes ARGH MY LOINS ARE BURNING IN A BAD WAY. I normally wear little shorts underneath any dress to attempt to counteract this, but that still means I’m warmer than I should be. Screw you, chub rub. Screw you, summer.
UK humidity is horrific. I don’t mind going to the majority of warm or hot countries, and I’m nursing the theory that I could even cope with south east Asian humidity, but here? You don’t expect to have to swim through soup just to pop to the shops, and nor should you. The UK should not be serving up this level of muggy, suffocating humidity, full stop. And have you SEEN what the humidity does to my hair? It’s not good, people. It’s not good. Monica in Friends and her Barbados issues are NOTHING compared to my humidity hair. And no man, nor beast, can tame that bush.
LACK OF AIR CON AS STANDARD
And, following on from the previous, UK homes are NOT built for summer. In the same way that the entire population of southern England is not built for more than 2cms of snow, UK homes are not built for Heat or Humidity. Why do we have to put up with boxy little houses crammed so close together? Why can’t someone have a lightbulb moment and at least install a sexy white box of wind and dreams? And yes, this part of my summer hatred could also be termed “I want an air con unit and I want it NOW”.
Minuscule balls of yellow evil. Next.
You know the people I mean. I love a BBQ, don’t get me wrong. But a BBQ stubbornly held in the middle of an August downpour, whilst a tiny speaker pumps out Pitbull in an attempt to force 8 people into some sense of jollity and a bucket of Pimms goes warm? BYE.
THE SHEER AMOUNT OF SUNBURNED FLESH ON DISPLAY
Look, I really and truly don’t mind if you want to get your skin out. I don’t. I mean, I will scoff at and say “Oh HERE they come” about the blokes who whip their tops off at the first hint of summer, but still. Your body. You get it out if you want. What I DO mind is just how blasé and ignorant people are about looking after that skin. It’s your skin! It’s got to carry you for your whole life! Why do you want to burn it to a lobster crisp and show it off like it’s some kind of status symbol?! I seriously want to grab each and every one of these people by the shoulders and scream “MELAAANOOOOMAAAAA” in their faces as I shake them.
Say you’ve forgotten all of the above. Say you’re having a fantastic time in this summer hell, living it up and soaking up the rays. Chances are, you’re doing this on the half hour you have at lunch, or after 5pm when you’re released from the office. You’re so excited for the weekend. The weekend is going to ROCK. You’re going to have a BBQ and hit the beach and maybe have a picnic. And OH WAIT IT’S RAINING. All weekend. Every weekend. For ever more.
Now, if you’ve read all of the above and you STILL don’t agree with me that actually, summer sucks, I’d be happy to take your arguments on board. Truly. Think of it as a challenge – give me a reason why summer is amazing and awesome that beats all of the above, and I’ll happily change my mind.