tales of an ordinary girl

I've never been a big fan of summer. As a kid, I guess I liked it because it meant no school, staying up late, and playing outside. But, at least since adolescence it hasn't been something I've enjoyed. It's hot and sticky and just a plain nuisance.

This year summer has come early. It's April and it's 100 degrees in Texas (80-90 here). I hate it. And yet, it feels good too. Maybe it's only as the days of summer drag on that I hate it. It's hard to remember from year to year. All I can remember is resenting the stifling heat.

Or maybe it's because it came early this year and we're still getting a few days of sprint intermingled. I can sit outside and eat at a cafe and the warm sun is complimented with a cool breeze. It's nice. Everything feels alive and energetic, not washed out, dried out, and oppressing languid.

I guess summer isn't that bad. I just wish it was shorter; that it had more lows than highs. I wish it were more like spring or fall.