I’m sure it is of no surprise to anyone that summer is not my favorite season. While others bask in the sunshine, laze by the lake, picnic on the patio, and devour s’mores around the campfire, I can be found sucking up all the ice-cold beverages and air-conditioning I can handle.
Am I the only miserable person on the planet because of summer? .
I know I’m a terrible person. It’s unheard of to hate summer. How dare I?
Summer. The season where intelligent beings are reduced to watching Wipeout while waiting on the fall TV season. Sweat. And did I say bad TV? Really bad.
Hot car door handles.
Hot steering wheels.
Forget about going barefoot.
But, whatever you do, don’t forget the sunscreen.
Ah, but all that is behind me now. It is September and the temps in Vegas have gone from the 110s to the high 90s. I may need to don my winter coat. Vegas locals have thin blood, which is partially from the free booze at the casinos, but mostly from the weather.
My ever-present OCD has me making a spreadsheet listing the fall TV shows and their start dates and times. I refuse to miss a single episode of Dancing With the Stars or Scandal.
Football is nigh and I am giddy. Oh Peyton, how I’ve missed you!
Soon I will be able to open a car door without using a towel to keep from getting scalded. That, in and of itself, is epic. You’d have to be a Vegasite to understand.
Summer! I bid you a fond farewell! I would say I’m going to miss you, but instead, I’m doing the happy dance. You know the dance. It’s just like the one parents do on their kids’ first day back to school.