I don’t like summer. I haven’t liked summer for as long as I can remember. Interestingly enough, this standpoint seems to be somewhat controversial. Most people seem to (at least publicly) prefer summer over the other seasons, often for the exact reasons I don’t like it and they are always surprised when I say I have an intense distaste for the season.
So why don’t I like it? Well, there are several reasons.
First of all, it’s too hot. I don’t do well in the heat. I live in central Europe where it’s not extremely hot compared to places such as southern Europe, but it still gets hotter than I like. It’s also humid where I live which means you spend your summer days stewing in your own sweat, even if you just sit around indoors and exert as little energy as humanly possible.
Another reason is that there are just simply too many people outside. The heat draws people out of their holes which makes things noisier, busier and generally more congested. I don’t like it. I prefer the peace of people staying inside.
It also draws people out to do yard work which means all you hear all summer long is motor noises outside. It doesn’t matter if they’re mowing their lawns, trimming their hedges or cutting down trees with a chainsaw. It’s just so damn noisy.
And speaking of yard work, that’s another reason I dislike summer. Yard work is something I loathe doing. I understand it’s partially my fault for buying a house with a large yard, but I still hate doing it and summer means I have to get out in the heat and humidity and suffer the terrible tediousness of trimming branches. I assume that if there is a hell, that is what it’s like.
The last reason I’m going to write about here is the external pressure to go outside. By external, I mean other people. By pressure, I mean my family and friends wanting me to go out and do something with them when I have absolutely no interest in feeling like I’m boiling in my own sweat. I enjoy spending time with them but generally don’t enjoy life when I’m forced to slow cook under the sun. And yet, people seem to like it and want me to come along. I’d rather spend time with them in the dark basement where it’s cool enough to be tolerable, but no one else seems particularly interested.
Well, there’s my little rant about how terrible summer is. I bet most people who read it will disagree with many of my points, but also, maybe not. The question is just whether they are willing to admit it.
