She has a winter coat ready to go in case that dream ‘chill’ summer job comes through

Dear Antarctica:

Summer is my least favorite season. Yes, I know that I sound crazy saying this. But it’s the truth, primarily because I hate being hot. You know those temperatures last winter when it was in the single digits with a windchill hovering in the minus 2 degree range? Well, I was extremely happy — giddy even. Quite frankly, I fear I missed my calling and should have pursued a career working in Antarctica.

Thinking maybe there’s still time for me to experience some South Pole love, I just checked the job listings in Antarctica. What do you know, there are actually some openings for writers with the U.S. Antarctic Program.

Be still my heart because where the job is located, the average high temperature in June is 29 degrees. That, right there, is my love language. I’m actually swooning.

Oh wait, umm: I just saw that you have to be a “scholar” to apply for the writing job. Ugh. I’m not exactly “distinguished academic” material.

Here’s a question in need of an answer: Where’s the love for the C students? You know who gets things done and still has fun? Yeah, that’s right, the C student.

To quote one of my Baylor college professors who, I’m sure when he said this to me, thought he was giving me a pep talk: “Average people rule the world. They’re the ones who keep everything running while the rest of us are overthinking things.”

Hmm, talk about an insult wrapped up like a compliment, but I get his point. You need people who actually do the work while others ponder how the work could be done better. That said, Dear U.S. Antarctic Program, when you need someone who’s neither distinguished nor academic, let me know. I’m available.

As a way to distract me from the extreme sadness I’m currently experiencing about leaving my South Pole job aspirations behind, let’s move on to something else that bothers me about summer. It’s that there’s far too much pressure put on the season.

You’re supposed to have a great summer. To not have a “great summer” means you’re somehow less than. To admit your summer was lousy or you’re tired of summer is akin to saying you hate puppies, babies and rainbows,or that you thought the musical “Hamilton” was a little boring.

The only acceptable way to diss summer, especially if you’re a mother with younger children, is to say, “I’m getting excited for school to start.” This way you’re not actually expressing disappointment with summer but with your children, and almost everyone can understand that emotion.

Summer is just way too over-hyped, yet none of us will own up to it. This is because we (OK, me) live in abject fear of the onslaught of summer shaming that will descend upon us. I’m already so stressed about writing this that I changed my email address at the bottom of this column in an effort to be spared the hate mail. Sadly, I know the keen eye of my editor will catch this and change it back. But I had to give it a try.

Hold on, I’ve just had a brilliant idea. Maybe, just maybe, this column will get picked up by the Antarctica Sun (Yes, I googled “does Antarctica have any newspapers?) and perhaps someone will hear my pleas and give this non scholar a chance to write about spending a summer in winter. In fervent anticipation, I’m going to get my winter puffer jacket out of the closet just in case.

Reach Sherry Kuehl at snarkythesuburbs@gmail.com, on Facebook at Snarky in the Suburbs, on Twitter at @snarkynsuburbs on Instagram @snarky.in.the.suburbs, and snarkyinthesuburbs.com.