December is a strange and confusing time for me. See, I’m alllll about Christmas. The decking of the bells, the wanting you for Christmas, the silencing of the night. Let’s just say, I’m an expert in all things Claus.
But in my mind during the months leading up to Christmas, I picture myself wearing a thick, insulating Christmas jumper while sitting by the fire with a hot choccy by my side.
Sadly, this has never once been the reality, and probably never will be in Australia, because of… Summer. Aka the cruelest of all seasons. Aka the most physically and mentally difficult three months of the 12 we are given.
Catching me at the beach outside my air-conditioned house during the summertime is a rare sight. Yes, some call me a hermit for this very reason, but unbeknownst to them all, I’m actually one step ahead of all their worst summer nightmares.
These nightmares include, but are not limited to:
WHY IS THERE SO MUCH OF IT.
Last summer, I went to the beach once, for approximately 12 minutes. Cue cries of horror. I know, I know – what kind of Australian am I? Apparently sand felt the same way, and decided to punish me the only way it knows how: To intercept my life with its unsolicited presence.
They’re tiny little crumbs of evil that follow you wherever you go. After one visit to the beach, little specks of sand somehow crop up in the most inconvenient places, at the most inconvenient times.
Having a nice dinner the day after a trip to the beach? Sand in your mouth.
Lying in bed a week after a trip to the beach? Sand on you sheets.
Maybe I’m just a grub of a human and need to wash more thoroughly. But still… I blame sand.
2. People. Are. Everywhere.
Summer is an introvert’s worst nightmare.
Forget about mosquitos. People are swarming and us introverts are very, very afraid.
If you want to step outside for a light stroll (hah, who are we kidding), or a bite to eat, think again. People would apparently prefer not to be cooped up inside their homes in the summertime, but be out and about.
Listen: The problem with saying “summer bodies are made in winter!” (Post continues after audio.)
This means what feels like the entire Australian population is sitting in your usually low-key, local café on a Sunday morning.
It means saying goodbye to the sliver of limited personal space you’d been allocated on public transport. Having someone breathe on your neck while on the tram is so much worse when it’s 35 degrees outside and you’re hypersensitive to heat.
Do. Not. Touch. Me.
3. The fashion.
Winter fashion is so versatile and saying that I merely miss it is a mammoth understatement.
You can layer tops on shirts on jumpers on coats. You can accessorise with scarves, beanies, and gloves – the whole shebang. By doing so, expressing your individual dress sense becomes an enjoyable, stress-free task in winter.
Then summer comes around and, if dresses just aren’t up your alley, you’re given the choice of… shorts and a tank top.
Sure, the absence of choice might reduce your morning routine by a smidge, but it makes appropriately dressing for work much more difficult than it already is. Should I wear spaghetti straps? Are these shorts too short?
On top of that, for those who prefer to cover up, showing skin is likely an inevitable consequence of the undesirable heat, and summer alone is to blame.
“You look so… dewy,” is what I’ve been told more than once before.
More than once is enough to realise people are trying to politely convey their judgement of my sweaty appearance. Message received.
Maybe there’s something wrong with my sweat glands (probably), but I’m downright sick of the bodily function entirely. Apparently our body sweats to cool us down, but why is it that I have not cooled down and I AM STILL SWEATING?!
5. Forget about makeup.
For the next three months, remove the word “makeup” from your vocabulary and replace it with “sweat”.
Sweat is all you'll need for your everyday makeup routine, and luckily, it's all you've been given.
6. Everything is peeling and we don’t know why because I PROMISE YOU I PUT SUNSCREEN ON.
A couple weekends ago, I did what would surprise most of my friends and family, and spent a whole entire day out in the sun. I was attending a festival, so the prospect of full sun exposure was likely.
As you can probably gather from my mild distaste for summer, I was prepared. Surprisingly, the forecast was cloudy and rainy, but I had an inkling the weather would fail me as it usually does in summer.
I remained optimistic and walked into the festival wearing a raincoat. The raincoat did not come into contact with rain. The raincoat was instead left a little discoloured from the blazing sun, which was unfortunate, but I remained smug due to the almost never-ending supply on sunscreen I’d packed in my deceivingly nifty bag.
I reapplied every hour or so. Nice work, Annabelle.
However, upon waking up the next morning, my whole body was sore. Partially from my uncoordinated but fully committed boogying, and partially from the sunburn that covered most of my upper body. Even my scalp was burnt.
The discovery was irritating, but what was even more frustrating was the unavoidable peeling of what felt like my entire body. I felt like a snake leaving behind its old shell. Ew.
Curse you, summer. You make me say gross things.
Watch your back, summer. via GIPHY
The fact that most Australians relish in temperature of such height absolutely baffles me. Although the classic Australian summer heat and stuffiness will inevitably come, it’ll fortunately then go (good riddance) after the lengthy three months is up.
Until then, you can find me in fully air-conditioned spaces, select shopping centres, or persistently struggling to fit my entire body into the fridge.
See you in March, folks.
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