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I'm a writer, a freelancer, a crafter, a nail polish mixatrix, a tea drinker, an unconventional life-liver, a journaling junkie, an introvert, a chronic-pain-sufferer, an idealist, a geek, a TV-lover. Welcome to my corner of the web!

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Monday, August 8, 2016

Summer is the worst

I have a calendar in my head that divides the year neatly into seasons, and that calendar is telling me that August, September, and October are Fall. That means my body is telling me that it should be cooler and I should be able to dig out my sweaters and hoodies and the dozens of scarves and wraps I have.

The problem with that is that I live in North Carolina, the American South, where Summer takes over a large chunk of Spring's weeks and most of Fall's, and my internal sense of seasons NEVER matches with what I'm experiencing. It's unfair, you guys.

We've had three months of over-90* weather already, and even though this year is vaguely cooler than last year--only a few days over 100, rather than a whole month, and wetter--it's still Too Much. It makes me restless, wanting something that's still likely to be months off. It doesn't get reliably cool here until at least October. September is often the hottest it'll be. We're starting to get to harvest season and it's so hot I don't want to go outside and think about it, even if any of my stuff hadn't all died off through the hotness of summer anyway.*

It's a weird headspace, the world not matching your expectations. One day, I'll move to a place where the seasons are closer to the ones in my head.** In the meantime, I'm trying to make sense of the seasons I actually have...but it's like wearing someone else's shoes.

I think there's probably something in everyone's life that feels like that--like it should be different than it is. I know this isn't the only place in my own that does, it's just the one I'm thinking of the most as I'm suffering through all this light and heat and being constantly a little dehydrated. Seriously, it's like the sunlight is so bright it physically weighs on me. And everything summery is so noisy!

Ugh, summer.

I'm trying to find ways to use this discomfort--in art or in writing. But it's not nice handling something you don't like, is it?

How do you guys handle that misfit between an idea of something and the actual something? I feel like figuring it out is one of the keys of a good life. What bothers you, that you're having to work your way through?

*My grapes and roses and pawpaws and apples are all too young to do anything but grow, and all the veggies died in the heat or rotted in the rain. I'm glad I didn't try to depend on my garden for food this year!
**If you know of a place with four even seasons, I'd love to know about it!


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