Yes, I will complain about the heat. Give me about a month before I launch into a whiney tirade, but rest assured that it will happen. It is certain that I will faint at the sight of the power bill because of how much the air conditioner will run - this is Georgia, which means the a/c *will* run. There is nothing that will make me happy about my eyeliner smearing down to my nostrils from perspiration, and frizzy hair makes me want to stomp about and throw a tantrum. But that's fine, because it's summer, and summer is my favorite season.
I will repeatedly eat too many peaches before they're fully ripe and lament having done so while searching for the Alka Seltzer. It's likely I'll burn out the motor on my new juicer, and I will probably use entirely too much gas driving to various produce stands to buy more stuff than I will ever use. I'll intend to make pickles and jams, and forget. There will be a floating idea of purchasing a snow cone machine, which I'll probably never get around to, just as there will be with the ice cream maker. Perhaps this year I will accept that those freezer pop molds are never going to show back up and just buy new ones, but that's doubtful. None of this is an issue.
The invasion of big bugs and bees will freak me out, especially when I am in the middle of trying to convince the grill to light. Lawn equipment will run, and loud, at the first teensy crack of dawn on the first morning I get to sleep late in ages. I will go all the way to the lake for picnics and leave the cooler at home. When Totsi the Dog and I go for walks, she will find the stinkiest mud on the planet and roll in it, knowing that her body heat combined with the heat of the great outdoors will intensify the stench to the point of being completely unbearable. But it's all cool.
It's summer. I'm going to live out loud and own it - including the stuff that I will say sucks, because it's a package deal.
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