I know I try to make this a vegan/food/fitness blog most days, but as I have little to report on that front, bear with me.
As the Chicagoland area has been losing its shit over the unbelievably, unseasonably sunny warmth for the past week, it’s starting to lose its luster for me. I’m sort of a Debbie Downer, I guess. Was 75 degrees in March nice? Yes. For a time. Now it’s an 80 muggy degrees in my apartment, and why the hell would I turn on the A/C? It’s March, for crying out loud! This means I have to suck it up. My hair hates humidity. I hate the sticky, loathsome feeling of sweat (especially in dress pants and nice blouses…ugh). There are already mosquitoes, for christ’s sake. One of the only tolerable parts of summer, to me, is those first nice, crisp, clean 50 degree days that feel so hot after a rigid Chicago winter. Wait, what’s that? Oh yes, that’s right: the Chicago winter we all know and love failed to grace us with its presence this year. “Winter” was about one and a half snowstorms and a lot of 35 degree days. And “spring” skipped the 40s-60s entirely and jumped right into a full-fledged summer.
I should love summer. Everybody loves summer. Everyone loves driving with the windows down, backyard BBQs, getting to bring your winter workouts out into the actual sunny world for a few months. What’s not to like about outdoor concerts? Beer tastings? Baseball games? The sound of bullfrogs at night or the rumbling of a freight train when your windows are open and you’re curled up in bed pondering life’s biggest, deepest questions? And I especially should love summer because my birthday is in July. I was a summer baby. And I was born on one of (if not THE) hottest day of the year. You’d think I’d have a proclivity for things that are toasty warm. But I don’t. My disdain for summer, I think, can be mostly attributed to the self-consciousness it brought in my youth. I sweat more than the average woman (is this a fact? I have no concrete evidence except for the fact that I sweat. a lot.) and my hair turns into a big giant frizzball and who needs moisturizer when you have a constant glisten of wet sweat donning your face? Ah, summer.
I know I shouldn’t complain about the wonderful weather because it comes few and far between but I am frankly tired of it. It was a nice honeymoon but now I’m ready for two months of spring that I feel I was robbed of. And all I keep reading about is how the bugs are going to be extra buggy this year because they’re all hatching or coming out of hibernation or whatever the hell it is they do way too early. And is anybody else just a wee bit concerned about global warming? Oh, no? Just me? Well okay then. This can’t be good for the polar ice caps…just sayin’.
And this concludes this episode of Why I Should Have Been Born a Canadian.