Praying for October...

Let me begin by making one thing perfectly clear:

I hate summer.

To paraphrase Frankenstein's Monster, "Summer BAD!!!!"

When it's cooler to stand in the blistering sunlight than it is to drive a car, it's too hot.

When you pop into a sweat when reaching for the TV remote, despite the fact that you're sitting inside, right under the A/C vent (to quote an old friend of mine, "I don't remember signing up for that"), it's too hot.

When opening the front door causes you to a.) lose the will to live, and b.) not care that you've lost the will to live, it's too hot.

It has come to my attention that there are a lot of people who like this kind of weather. I would like to say (and I really do say this with the utmost respect) that you are all crazy.

I realize that being slightly overweight (read: fat) and hairy (ironically, the only place I can't grow hair is the top of my head) has something to do with this, but even without the extra insulation (blubber) and fur coat (I sometimes look in the mirror and think my brain has been transplanted into the body of a silverback gorilla...or possibly a Sasquatch), I just plain don't like heat.

My own personal temperature comfort zone is something like this:

0-35: A bit chilly. Probably ought to wear a jacket.
36-75: Perfect. Break out the shorts and Hawaiian shirts.
76 and up: Unholy.

Yes, the temp zone where I'm most comfortable is rather large, but it should be pointed out that we spend relatively little time in that comfort zone.  Where I live, we seem to go from "so cold that Titanic-killing icebergs are in the front yard" to "quite honestly, the surface of the sun would be more comfortable" overnight.

That being said, it doesn't help matters any that I am constantly accosted by people who, while seeing by the redness of my face that I am clearly about to explode, feel the need to ask "Is it hot enough for ya?"

This is not amusing.

I usually manage a weak chuckle (it's too hot to fake laughter) and say something like "Yeah, pretty hot, ain't it?" when what I really want to say is "Well, no, I really like it when my face begins to melt and slide away from my skull. I really wish it were about a hundred degrees hotter, with ten thousand percent humidity, so I can really start enjoying the great outdoors! Now, give me your phone number, because during the winter, I'm going to call you every single day and ask 'Is it cold enough for you, you heat-loving weirdo? I have all the windows open at home so I can bask in this lovely breeze...'".

Clearly, I'll survive. I have every year so far, and usually without bursting into flames.

I just feel the need to rant a bit, because I'm so darn miserable during this time of year that I do in fact spend a great deal of time praying for October to get here (by the way, I think that "Praying For October" would be a great name for a band).

In closing, I'd just like to ask that if any of you find me passed out from heat exhaustion after the effort of taking the trash out to the curb, please roll me over so I can at least get an even tan.
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Thanks for reading my ranting,

Brad