Why I HATE Summer.

There are a lot of things that I will not tolerate.  Children.  Olives.  Dirty Fingernails.  The list goes on and on.  But the one thing that takes the pie is–summer.  It’s by far the worst season!  And I’m still clueless as to why people love it SO much.  (This will always remain a mystery to me.)  People live for this sweaty season and I’m just over here wishing there was a fast forward capability.  Yes, I would like to skip over this sweaty shit.  K. ThanksWhenever I tell someone that I hate summer, they look at me as if I’ve got roaches crawling all over my face.  If you and I are gonna be best buddies, you have to understand why I hate this season so much.  So, maybe I  should explain my reasons in full detail…

I hate the heat.  And I mean hate.  When it starts to hit even 80 degrees, I have a mental freak out.  It causes my resting bitch face to become the eternal bitch face.  I become cranky, moody and I have a terrible tendency of lashing out at people a lot more when the heat is in full effect. Why? (Well, the heat made me do it.)  When the heat starts rising that only means one thing–sweating.

Who actually enjoys sweating?  Seriously.  Who does?  I have not heard one person tell me they thoroughly enjoy sweating.  And if you do (then you’re weird.)  And I have to speak on behalf of all women when I say this–sweating is so much worse for us.  Everything starts sweating.    Our boobs start to sweat.  Our butts start to sweat.  Our thighs become sticky and sweaty which becomes super unpleasant whenever we sit on a couch (or in a car).  Our hair begins to sweat which lowers our cute factor.  Even our downstairs starts to sweat (Sorry!  I’m not about to lie to you!).  Sweating also plays an entirely different role when it comes to makeup.  All that time spent on getting ready becomes absolutely pointless.  Our makeup feels like it’s melting off our face.  In fact, it does melt off.  I no longer am Meg, I become Sweaty Betty.  I hate sweating and the only time it becomes tolerable is when I’m working out and even then–I still hate it and begin searching for a towel ASAP.

I don’t need a preview of what hell is going to feel like.  I’m going to get there eventually!

The summer months usually mean one thing--schools are out of session which means children are EVERYWHERE.  And you already know my thoughts on children.  (If you don’t, you can read all about it here.)  Every cool theme park and local hangout that were once quiet are now filled with screaming, running, asshole children and their clueless parents.  (Yeah, you heard me.  Clueless.)  The rides for theme parks become longer.  And my patience becomes shorter.  Let’s see, it’s hot and I feel like I’m swimming in a pool of lava and now I have to deal with all these kids who ruin all the cool things.  Thanks a lot, summer. 

With summer comes my least favorite holiday–the Fourth of July.  I can see it now–some proud American is probably getting all worked up.  Before you lose your mind on me, let me explain.  Fourth of July is important because it signifies the birth of our country.  And yeah, that rulesBut, what doesn’t rule is that one jerk who keeps blowing off fireworks two months later.  Were you late to your annual 4th of July barbecue?  Or are you just a jackass?  My neighbor (of whom I despise) does this occasionally in the middle of the street–in the middle of the night way before and way after our patriotic holiday…

“Hey guys, look.  I’m blowing off this firework at 3 am during a work week.  Come see how cool I look.” 

You’re not cool.  You’re not being any different than any other redneck-bro- bozo.  Everyone is wishing you’d catch on fire.  And I’m silently killing you in my mind…

On behalf of those who enjoy sleep and silence:

Cut. the. Shit.

Either way, fireworks are annoying (unless you’re watching them at a Theme Park) if you’re just blowing them off just because then just assume that I automatically hate you.  I’m trying to sleep.  You’re doing nothing by blowing off a Piccolo Pete at 2am. 

Can you not?  K. Thanks.

While we’re on the subject, I have a unique way of how I sleep.  I turn the fan on high so my room is similar to that of an igloo.  My mom used to burst into my room all in a panic that I’d freeze to death.  (I’m sorry, but do you see any icicles?  No?  That’s what I thought.)  Once I’ve wrapped myself up in blankets, (like some type of blanket burrito) I expose my face so I can feel the crisp, cold air.  I sleep soundly with my head rested gently on the cold side of my pillow.  (Cold pillows are the only good pillows.  Just sayin’.)  This type of nightly routine is how I fall asleep successfully.  However, when summer comes into the equation, sleeping becomes a fucking nightmare to say the least…

Hot sleep is the worst sleep. Period.  Sleeping comfortably doesn’t exist in the summer. Instead of sleep, I’m just rolling around in my own sweat losing valuable time.  I can feel the heat suffocating me.  Don’t mind me, I’m just rolling around in my own filth at this point.  How does anyone sleep soundly when it’s the temperature of hell outside?  How do you function?

Adapting a healthy lifestyle means that exercising is something I engage in daily.  And exercising becomes even MORE difficult when it feels like the deepest depths of hell are suffocating me to death.  I already want to die when I exercise and now were adding 91 degrees to this?  How do I even succeed?  I normally turn the fan on and let the cold breeze kick in, but there’s only so much work my cheap fan can do.  Sometimes I just lay on the carpet of my home gym wishing the sweet kiss of death would just take me right then and there…

Summer is the season of self-consciousness.  And self-loathing.  Confidence usually takes a long shit during this time.  (Pardon my French.)  And I’m speaking on behalf of everyone (not just women). There’s a reason why I hate myself more than usual during this season–it’s because I spend the majority of it standing in front of a mirror while it judges me.  While we’re on the subject–I have a slight problem with mirrors.  You heard me.  Mirrors are on their A-Game during summer and their objective is to make you feel shitty.  Think of every girl who ever picked on you in a locker room.  Guys, think of every muscle magazine and body builder.  Do you know where they are?  They are in a fucking mirror.  Mirrors are such judgy bitches especially the ones with insane-blinding-your-eyeballs-forever-lighting in a dressing room.  I will forever have a problem with these judgy things during the summertime…

If my summer body isn’t up to ‘summer standards’ then summer can kiss my white ass.


Some of my best childhood memories had to do with summer (unfortunately).  Every June my family and I would pack up the camper and load up the jet skis to Lake Havasu, our favorite summer destination.  We’d spend our summer hours in the water while getting burned, building castles at the sandbar and staying up late near the crackling embers of our makeshift campfire.  I’d fall asleep to the chirping of the crickets and the gentle licks of the current against the shore only to wake up and do it all over again. 

The only thing I had to worry about was not getting badly sunburned (which happened anyway).  Sometimes I would pitch a fit if we spent too long in the heat somewhere, but I never knew that I needed to just cherish what I had.  I should have just lived in the moment instead of letting it pass me by.  But how was I supposed to know that those kind of moments don’t last forever?

 I think (one of) the saddest moments in my life was when my dad sold our motorhome and our jet skis.  My brother had gotten married and started his own family.  And I was still trying to find myself in community college.  We stopped our annual tradition as a family.  We severed what had brought us together.  My brother and I had grown up and become busier with our lives.  When our driveway became empty and our garage became more spacious–it was like the end of an era.  There were so many memories locked away in that motorhome.  Memories of me drifting to sleep from the sounds of laughter and the crackle of the fire from outside.  Memories of my cereal sloshing around in my paper bowl as I watched the landscape roll on while my dad barreled down the freeway at warp speed.  Memories of classic rock music blaring through our speakers, my dad hitting cruise control just to rock out with his air guitar…

  Those summer moments at the lake exist in bits and pieces.  I still remember the cocky grin splashed upon my face as I’d pull back hard on the gas of my jet ski only to race a nearby speedboat.  Laughing uncontrollably as I took in that spark of adrenaline.  Bumping on the waves, my shoulders feeling the warm of the sun as I continued to ride alongside our river friends.  I was so blindly unaware of how precious this place truly was and how much it meant to me…  

I can never replace those moments of where summer was actually valuable.  They are all gone, sold to another family who will never know the treasures of the very few times where I genuinely enjoyed summer.  Lying at the bottom of that sea-green river, my carefree summer adventures are buried beneath the waves.  This overrated season which never brings me a tan will remain dead and buried to me.  

Hiding in the shade forever,


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5 comments so far.

5 responses to “Why I HATE Summer.”

  1. Glitter Goth says:

    Same here, hate summer, hate kids, hate people! Except we don't have 4th of July, but I hate May the 1st just the same 🙂

  2. Meg says:

    Haha! This is why you and I get along so well! We can both hate the summer together! <3

  3. I'm with you, I can't stand sweating! I'm pretty sure I sweat much more than the average person already lol

  4. Meg says:

    I sweat like no tomorrow during summer. The S in Summer stands for SUFFERING! hahah!

  5. Salina Coria says:

    Summer sucks! Why can’t it be Fall forever? Fall has the best clothes and holidays!

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