Sadly work begins with a W and therefore did not fit in my alliteration scheme.
So, once again it is time to be a pasty northerner when the temperature climbs above my favored 75 degrees Fahrenheit. When all around me are transplants from fairer climes chirping about how lovely this is, and isn’t it better than that depressing gray, mist we get the rest of the year?
I myself am a transplant from a colder clime, so most of the time I’m pretty happy to live somewhere with gray skies and a soothing soft mist.
But yeah, I have a list of reasons to hate summer. It starts with “Chub Rub”* (so far the Magic German Tights ™ are holding up pretty well to having to walk in the heat and the, odd, humidity) and ends with Sunburn. Because I do. Repeatedly. I don’t get to burn and then tan. I get to burn. And then burn. And then burn. Interspersed with peeling. It’s great.**
Then, as a result of the physical discomfort, sweating, and lack of sleep while we all pray for the next ice age, you get the stress. Lack of sleep, appetite and energy all hit pretty much everyone in the house hard, and we get crabby. Also, if there is any other source of stress involved, like say, work bullshit, it snowballs.
Lets just say that if my metaphorical snowballs were real, we could be having one hell of a snowball fight.
So, what do we do to try live in peace, not quit our jobs, and in general do more than lay on the floor in a puddle of sweat sobbing?
As I’ve mentioned previously, we go to a lot of movies, because most movie theaters have functional air conditioning. We tend to grocery shop per day, instead of in big trips, because the freezer section is a gods damned delight. Ice cream sandwiches have saved people’s lives, I’m just saying.
Frequently, I’ll try to get up on the weekends early enough to work out before it gets hot, or wait until the evenings. I know, I know, gyms have air conditioning, but they also have people. People who might ask me how I’m enjoying this lovely weather…
Know what my yard doesn’t have? People. Apart from me.
I’ve also noticed I write a lot of fic when it’s hot.
A. LOT. OF. FIC.
I write as a form of self-soothing. It doesn’t have to be fic, or original fiction, it can be anything at all. It’s one of the things I love about blogging, and things like Dreamwidth and Tumblr, the outlet it gives me. Mostly, however, I tell myself stories, written longhand in journals, to keep from losing my shit. Sometimes those stories are kind of antisocial. But mostly it can be things that caught my eye or my interest and I’ve decided to craft an entire world around them.
I get a lot more “flow of consciousness” when it’s hot.
Another helpful tip is cold fruit. The grocery store near us has an obscenely good deal on pineapple. We buy tons of it, stick it in the fridge, and delicious snack that involves ZERO HEAT WHATSOEVER. Also, you can freeze it and use it as ice cubes in your water bottle.
Costco sells Otterpops in gigantic boxes.
Otterpops make excellent ice packs and are delicious.
Seriously, when I worked at a nightclub, we kept a giant box of Otterpops in one of the freezers. If we liked you, and you looked over-heated, we would give you an Otterpop. Mostly we hoarded them for ourselves. Because we were stuck there for 5-6 hours, and the customers weren’t. Also, if you work at a bar/nightclub, the walk-in cooler is a godsend, also makes a great place for primal scream therapy on nights when the customers are particularly asshole-ish, and/or there is more than one bachelorette party.
Many people will say swimming is a great way to beat the heat. And to an extent they are correct. Unless swimming has to happen outside in the unforgiving rays of the sun. Seriously, you guys, there is no waterproof sunblock that can save me. Also, unless you own said pool, or beach access, people.
Are you sensing a theme yet?
I get really antisocial when it’s hot. I don’t want to talk to anyone, I sure as fuck don’t want to touch anyone, and for the most part I don’t want to put on clothes and leave my house.
Which is where naked videogaming comes into it.
I kind of hated bartending in a dance club in the summers. Ugh, no, you guys, the walls would sweat. I’d be down to electrical tape, a g-string, fishnets and combat boots and STILL sweat would be pouring off me. The only saving graces were standing in the walk-in cooler, steam rolling off your body, until you cooled off enough to breathe again. The other was standing over the drain in the men’s bathroom and hosing off at the end of the night with the sprayer from the mop sink.
I guess this is a lot of words to say, I really hate summer. And here’s some of my tips for surviving it as best you can, particularly if you work in nightclubs, bars or restaurants.
It is also a lot of words to say that I am stressed the hell out, and while there is light at the end of yon tunnel, it could be a while. And the fact that it’s summer is not helping.
*When, as a fat girl, your thighs rub together beneath your lovely summer frocks, until you’re pretty sure they’re about to ignite. Although to be fair, you don’t actually have to be fat. Most women’s thighs touch, and this can happen.
**Not actually great.
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Also, if you’d like to see what sort of fiction I write when left to my own devices, please feel free to check out my fiction Patreon, Nothing Nice Comes Out of My Head.