I have a confession to make. I hate summer. Now, don’t get me wrong. I enjoy swimming and grilling and flying the flag, etc. But I loathe the heat. I relish those days that are 65 or 75 degrees and I can throw open the windows and enjoy the cool breeze. Unfortunately, this weekend our highs will hit 90. I don’t even like 80. You can well imagine my disgust with Texas’ August 110 degrees.
I understand some people love it. I had a boss once who couldn’t stand it below 75 degrees and would keep a heater in her office. She was born in the Southwest and simply loved the heat. I can’t stand it and after living in South Florida for a number of years, I feel like I’ve done my time with the heat. Unfortunately, I still haven’t been able to escape it all year. And this is the first pregnancy I’ve been this pregnant with summer rapidly approaching. Usually I tolerate it well enough until the end of July and then I begin counting down until October. Then today, with the high at 88 degrees, I realized being pregnant will make me even less tolerant of the heat. Fortunately, our high by Wednesday should be back in the 70s, but until then, I’m spending most of my time in the A/C.