this summer

T.S. Eliot said April is the cruelest month.  But I'd have to agree with Bananarama.  I think this year has been a cruel summer.  Between mama still recovering, hotter and more humid days, bed bugs and the just plain brokeness of it all, I’m officially stating that this summer has sucked ass.

I think you have to be from a northern clime to truly appreciate the severity of this statement.  In Minnesota, we start dreaming of summer soon after the State Fair closes it’s doors at the end of Labor Day.  By February we’re celebrating days in the 40s and watching every sign of spring so closely we could be phenologists.

So, after all this dreamin, wishin and hopin, to dismiss summer so summarily is odd to say the least.  Let me explain.

I feel like I have no friends.

Facebook disagress.  But isn’t that the interesting part?  How can one have 120-some “friends”, and yet feel ostracized, alone and abandoned?  And I should clarify, I know I’m not alone.  My husband and I are close, and I see my mother weekly if not more frequently.  But I feel pushed away by my closest friends.  S keeps saying “we need to get together”, but can never find time.  E “is just too overwhelmed, it’s all too much” to be bothered to take my call.  C would like to see me, but is afraid I’ll contaminate her with bed bugs.  Shy of strip searching myself and spending $2 and an hour drying my clothes prior to going over there, I doubt that will happen.

I am upset.  I am unhappy.  I am distressed.

I hate this summer.