I Like the Concept of Summer More than Summer Itself

2 Jul
I like the concept of summer more than summer itself.
Sometime around February every year, I think to myself, “Wow…wouldn’t it be nice to have longer days and warmer temperatures?  I can’t wait for summer!”  I then imagine myself joining a kickball league, playing in a beer league softball game, going to picnics, and splashing around in a pool.  
What I forget about is that I can’t stand the heat, I get burned just thinking about the sun, my allergies have been gotten so bad I can’t tell if the smart money thinks my skin will fall off or my lungs will catch on fire if I go outside, and I have to hit myself with so much allergy medication I deserve a badge of honor if I can remember my name.
For some reason, in February I don’t remember this: in July, it’s all I can think about. 
 Plus, I have to start taking care of the yard.  Yesterday, at my parent’s place, I did some yard work for them and I’m pretty sure they won’t have to water the lawn anytime soon because I showered it in my sweat.  I also had to dig up a dead bush, which wouldn’t have been problem if it wasn’t for the fact it was right next to a very large rock with tons of sharp, jagged edges; it will haunt the nightmares of accident prone people.  I am an accident prone person.  This thought came to me as I slipped off the rock (I was trying to use it as a lever to pull out the bush) and I tumbled into some very prickly bushes.  Lucky for me, one of their neighbors saw me fall and said, “Nice fall man!  It looked great!”  then promptly drove away in his van.  
The worst part about this is I am a mosquito magnet; I have been so my entire life.  When I was six, on a family vacation in Hawaii, every morning I would wake up looking like I had chicken pox from all the bites.  Every body else would be fine.  The joke was I had “sweet tasting blood.”  This is still true.  The moment I walk outside, a mosquito will find and bite me.  I know vampires don’t exist because, if they did, I would have been drained dry by this time.  
Plus, there’s all the wild fires.  The entire atmosphere is so polluted with toxins even taking in a breath burns my throat.   
If Global Warming is true and the world will turn into a perpetual summer, it’s official: I died and I am, in fact, in Hell.
Further Bulletins as Events Warrant

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