I’m very susceptible to the seasons, and by susceptible I mean, I hate summer, for the most part.
Early on in summer I’m pretty fucking excited about it: sitting outside more, outdoor concerts, summertime beers, but soon that feeling gives over to the constant hum of air conditioners blowing consistently, non-stop lawn mowing, and the utterly oppressive heat that forces me to wear shorts.
The fucking horror.
Summer takes from me the one thing that makes the seasons bearable: all my cool, black coats and hoodies.
These have no place in summer and I’m forced to wear ill-fitting t-shirts, or button ups over ill-fitting t-shirts that are just sweat producing factories.
So when Fall starts to give us a few previews of it’s glorious, cooler weather in September, I know it’s but a tease, and all I can do is long for the times when my precious rad coats can come out of hiding once again.