This is not like me, this desire to find the cold. I'm the girl who lives for hot baths, cozy sweaters, and reading by the fire. I have always avoided air conditioning, preferring open windows and tall ceilings to let in natural breezes. But here, as summer fast approaches, I am running for the shade. Fuck sunshine. Seeking shelter under the sea grape trees or basking in a cloudy day. SPF all day, every day. Sunshine. Piss. oFF. Cold showers delight. The portable ice-maker, my new best friend. Spritzer, anyone? Corkcicle, Yeti and Swell, every day accessories. Bio-freeze rolled onto my neck morning, noon and night- if only for that brief moment of wet, menthol coolness to drape down my body.
Who is this person? Has St. Sunshine converted or am I just a lot closer to menopause than I care to admit? I honestly can't say. What I do know is that it feels as if the wheels are coming off, and not just for me. My kids are D-O-N-E with school as the rest of their classmates are back in the classrooms and they are stuck on the screen, an almost after thought, but keep up! The dogs won't (friggin') stop shedding- making little dust bunnies all around the house and courtyard, pool and patio. Dave hasn't put on a shirt in 3 weeks. Even the Jeep's oil temp runs hot, never sliding below the half way mark, preferring to hold my anxiety at the 65% mark. I can say that Coco the cat seems happy enough, finding cool tiles to splay out upon, but he's a cat and cats love to be contradictory.
I don't like all of this boiling. Complaining. Whining. (But see above- I am so fucking hot.) Is this climate change? Hormonal? Pandemic blues? Fed up optimism? My very own version of "languishing"? The 7 month itch? Is it just me?
A friend of mine, who is also in the healing industry, once recommended that I find/make/ordain a complaining rock. I've yet to do it. Instead, I tend to ride my peloton and have my own dance party (see above- ear sweat). I meditate and write to release my woes. Sometimes I chop vegetables or crush seltzer cans, just to hear the thuds of accomplishment. The kids shoot targets with the BB gun, not quite my thing, but I'm thinking about it. I used to clean up the house when I felt this under the skin angst, but if it's after 9:30am, it's too bleeding hot! This bitter, scowly version of myself is uncomfortable. I fear all of the hot air is going to explode and land me in Antartica, with Bernadette. Or, I will soon go bald with all of the hair I'm losing.
My plan... keep the humor in all of this change and chuztpah that's showing up, behold the abundance that becomes in warm climates (ie- new appreciations, new tools, new attitudes -even if they are uncomfortable), and resist my angst LESS. Maybe I will find more flow, or the real meaning of "island time." Mid-day/lunch break siestas on the couch watching Survivor, afternoon dips in the pool with Elsa and Cybil, early, dewey mornings when the moon is setting and the sun is rising, working a/c, ceiling fans, rain showers, cold showers, linen dresses, open pores and oily skin instead of sensitive and dry, glowing sunsets that invite dusk driven wind gusts.
...okay, something's shifting, but I think I'll go look for that rock. (Thanks for listening.)
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