Time To Sunbathe Like There’s No Tomorrow!

I would like to apologize in advance if I accidentally flash you.

(Yes, I will explain that opening line. Bear with me.)

It’s that time of year again. What time of year, you ask? It’s that time when I enter into The Denial Period. The Denial Period starts in August and usually runs into early October. It’s when I cannot accept that summer is ending and my brain, seized by a bout of temporary insanity, seems to think I can delay the onset of fall by losing layers of clothing.

Summer is my favorite season. While I wouldn’t describe myself as outdoorsy, I am still very much solar powered. I like sunshine. I like warmer temperatures. I like being able to run around scantily clad. Well, scantily clad by my standards isn’t really scantily clad. It’s more like “running around in clothes that do not have long sleeves.” My insecurities about my chubby upper arms has always prevented me from going completely sleeveless. But I greatly enjoy shortening the sleeves as much as I can.

So now that we’ve reached the point where it starts getting dark earlier and the temperatures start to drop, I go into panic mode.

“CAT!” I say, because I talk to my cat about everything. “I must wear EVEN SKIMPIER CLOTHES so that I can embrace the sun as much as possible before it goes away.”

The Cat gives me an annoyed look. I’m not sure if it’s because she’s seen me go through this a few times already and knows how ridiculous it is. Or maybe she just doesn’t get it because she doesn’t wear clothes. Maybe she’s jealous that all she can do is shed fur. Maybe she wishes she could wear clothes for the sole purpose of being able to reduce the amount of clothes she wears. I briefly contemplate getting her some clothes so she can join me in the great tradition of Trading In Long Sleeves For Short Sleeves.

Yes, my seasonal temporary insanity is bad enough to convince me that trying to put clothes on a cat — MY angry cat — is a good idea.

Thankfully, I snap out of it and head outside, ready to soak up some sun.

The part I don’t enjoy about summer — the sweaty stickiness of the air — soon kicks in. It’s awful. Somewhere in the teeny tiny part of my brain that still exercises some logic, I know this. But I am determined —- DETERMINED — to get the maximum amount of Vitamin D possible. Because somehow the insanity that takes over during The Denial Period has convinced me that the sun will cease to exist once fall starts.

I also spend a good part of the denial period staying out later than I would prefer just to catch what remains of the daylight. This behavior increases the likelihood that I may accidentally flash you as I continue to wear the skimpiest clothing possible.

As previously mentioned,  I somehow convince myself that I can stop the weather change from happening if I keep wearing summer clothes. I have to freeze nearly to death a few (hundred) times in the cooler temperatures before I finally accept that it’s time to wear long sleeves again. And maybe a coat. Possibly some snow boots. (The Denial Period has lasted until the first snow fall. Although seeing as I live in Ohio, “first snow fall” isn’t saying much. It has snowed practically every month of the year.)

So beware if you happen to cruise through my neighborhood. You may get an eyeful of Amy in Denial. But there’s something even worse that happens during this time period. Something you should fear more than seeing too much skin.

I become filled with murderous rage.

“But Amy,” you ask. “Doesn’t summer put you in a good mood?”

It does. What puts me in a bad mood is all the people — and I swear these people show up earlier and earlier every damn year — who want to put a damper on my summer by talking nonstop about fall.

You know who I’m talking about. They’re posting countdowns to football kickoffs on their Facebook. They’re talking about how they can’t wait to bust out their boots and sweaters. And they’re at every restaurant and every store loudly asking, “so when is the pumpkin spice stuff coming out?” And these people want pumpkin spice in EVERYTHING. Pumpkin spice lattes. Pumpkin spice cookies. Pumpkin spice laundry detergent. Pumpkin spice air freshener.  If there was a way to get pumpkin spice intravenously, these people would make a beeline to the nearest ER and beg someone to hook them up. ALL THE PUMPKIN SPICE. Now, I do enjoy pumpkin — particularly in the form of pumpkin bread — but not this much.

And as I’m getting all depressed at every minute of lost sunset, there’s The Fall People, drooling at the thought of inching closer to the dark abyss that is Pumpkin Spice Season.

“You don’t like fall?” you ask. “I mean, I’m not a Pumpkin Spice nutjob, but there’s stuff I like about autumn.”

Me too, dear reader. Me too. But besides the pumpkin spice frenzy, I have two major grievances with fall:

1. It ends summer.
2. Winter comes after it.

If it weren’t for those two facts, I’d probably be a fall fanatic.

Adding to my murderous rage — albeit unintentionally — is The Husband. He is a human furnace. So he can wear summer clothes pretty much all year round without a problem. AND HE DOESN’T EVEN CARE ABOUT ABSORBING ALL THE SUNLIGHT! My husband also is a fall fanatic. Okay, mostly he’s just a football fan. But he’s still eager to count down. And I have to remind him not to do such things in my presence, lest I unleash the rage.

Then he reminds me that there are perks, such as increased quantities of pumpkin bread. And the fact that I can steal his hoodies. It’s a small consolation, but it’s something.

So in summary, here’s what you can do to help me during this trying time:

1. Keep your love of fall to yourself.
2. Bring me sunscreen.
3. Avert your eyes if the skimpy clothes get to be too much.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I must go outside and sunbathe some more.