I’ve always loved summer. I love its promise of beaches and cloudless skies and sun-kissed days. All the summers of my life have always been fun and full of promise, so it’s no wonder why I never want it to end. Usually.

Well, except for this summer, that is.

The few fabulous trips we’ve taken notwithstanding, I think the only thing I’ve managed to do the past couple of months or so is soak in my own sweat all day and all night. It’s the dripping kind, too. In fact, I’ve been sweating so much that I didn’t even know that I – or anyone, for that matter – could be capable of sweating as much as this. Frequent showers, baby powder, and even air-conditioning do not seem to be helping at all. So all I can do is soak, sweat, and soak some more in this wretched heat.

And as if that wasn’t bad enough, there seems to be no end in sight for the oh-so vile power outages that seem to be occurring more and more often now. Every day, like clockwork, usually between 9 AM and 1 PM, I find myself cursing VECO to the heavens. Seriously, why do they always turn off the damned power when the sun is at its hottest? And why is the company so backwards that it can’t see the benefits of weatherization training for its employees?

Strangely enough, The Husband (he who has been used to snow and ice and the awful cold of London) is faring a lot better than I am – and I’ve lived in the tropics forever. In fact, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say he’s actually enjoying it. But then, life’s not fair that way.

Really, it’s hellish, this summer. And for once, I would be very glad when it’s over. Here’s hoping it won’t decide to extend its stay this year. I’ve had enough. Really.