The Proper Bostonian has to admit that she doesn't like summer as much as she thought she did. The mild, breezy days of June and all of the unseasonably cool days are very well — and so is vacationing in Maine. But the traditional summer heat waves of July and August leave her cold. So to speak. Sweating, perspiring, dripping, and even "glowing" should not happen outside of an exercise session or a ferocious bout of housekeeping. They should not occur simply because you went downstairs to check the mail.
The PB always prefers a heavy cloud cover to baking in direct sunlight, too. She hates sunblock. You're supposed to cover yourself with it liberally after you shower and before you get dressed. But as soon as you slap it on, don't you desperately want to take another shower to get it off? Slime!
She also resents have to resort to energy-wasting air conditioners, which are noisy and never manage to keep her rooms at a comfortable temperature, always too cold or too hot. But longhaired cats (and people) need them.
Perhaps she should move to the Oregon coast. But then what would she have to complain about?
Here is her pathetic list of things that make a heat wave feel a little less like the city has turned into an enormous clothes dryer set on High Heat.
- It's the perfect excuse for not doing whatever you don't feel like doing. Like cleaning. Or turning a page. "It's too hot!"
- Less laundry, because I hope you're wearing fewer clothes. I don't miss sorting socks or folding undershirts.
- Shopping for groceries, or doing any air-conditioned errand, is now something to look forward to.
- Trader Joe's Low-Calorie Pink Lemonade. Preferably accompanied by the box of Girl Scouts' Thin Mints you prudently stuck in the freezer last spring as a heat-wave contingency.
- It's too hot to cook. We've been eating burritos almost every day lately. I hope it's not possible to overdose on guacamole. But if so, I always thought that the Wicked Witch of the West's green complexion was adorable.
- Air conditioners drown out street noise — screaming drunks, wild parties, early-morning bottle collectors with shopping carts. Of course, the air conditioner's own noise is almost as annoying. And nothing drowns out the sound of the guy across the alley who is still waling the tar out of his wheelbarrow with a sledgehammer every morning at 7 am. It's been months, buddy. Time to finish the job and Move On.
- The lure of a frosty theater is almost enough to enable my husband to persuade me to see some stupid summer movie (I believe that "stupid" and "summer" are redundant). But he has a little hope, at least. Although it sounds like Inception is pretty darn stupid indeed.
- My flip flops are looking more sartorially correct than they did in April, or will in October.
- Lying on the couch for days, going through the enormous pile of old magazines that's been accumulating for two years, feels virtuous instead of decadent because it's too hot for serious literature.
- People sometimes invite you to swim in their pools... although never as often as you'd wish, which is something like twice a day.