S.A.D.

i think i have seasonal affective disorder. except in reverse.

most commonly when you read about it, it's in reference to people who just can't stand the winter. they get withdrawn and depressed from the lack of daylight, the cold weather, the dreary gloomy season. they get light therapy and vitamin supplements.

my mom loves the warm sunlight, gardening, fishing, and will find any excuse to be outside every possible moment of the summer. she loathes cold weather and high school ski trips found her sitting in the lodge all week long sipping hot cocoa and reading a book. i'll call her on a ninety-five degree evening and she's mowing the lawn. and she's happy about it. my sister and her husband own a boat. on a random weeknight you might find them picnicking on the lake. my sister has skin that warm, sleek golden color that mine hasn't looked since i was twelve years old.

freaks.

i am albino-like compared to my late-august counterparts. the heat is beats down incessantly, trying to suffocate me (and apparently only me), and i avoid it at all costs. i hesitate and groan before walking out the door. it's like walking into an invisible wall of vaporized tar. i feel sluggish. i break a sweat buckling aislinn into her carseat. it feels gross. i get sunburned. i reach a point where there are no more clothes i can remove without being reported by the neighbors that i'm committing indecent exposure while carrying in my groceries. there are bugs. my plants give up all hope and scorch to death and i can't help them because it's too hot to go turn on the sprinkler. most of the water never reaches the ground, anyway, before it's sucked up into a sunset atmosphere the approximate temperature of a crematorium.

the last few days, then, have been a GODSEND. i feel lighter! sleeker! faster! of course it's all in my head, but isn't that the point? soon it will be fall, and the air will be crisp and cool and accommodating to life on the planet once more. i am watering my plants again. they're like gee, thanks, i'm dead but i don't care. i feel productive. the windows are open. in two short months it will be time for apple cider and vegetable stew and baked goods and cinnamon-scented candles and the skies will get dark early and blankets will become useful again and the fireplace! and everything will be right in the world.

i'm moving to alaska.