July 9th, 2014

Jareth Pissy


The tyranny of the sun has begun in earnest up here in the Pacific Northwest. Known for its cloudy skies and cool weather, the Seattle area is perfect for me. Except for summer. This is the time of year when Seattlites dash from shade to shade like every step in the sun is akin to walking on lava. It feels like that, too.

Home AC is fairly rare because, most of the time, the weather is cool, chill even, perfect. So, businesses that have AC do good business as those of us without AC seek out cool places to stay and buy a little something, renting their seat so to speak. It’s only polite.

I hate this part of the year. The relentless sun. The hot weather that makes me sticky, sweaty, and uncomfortable. The sky gets that washed out blue color that some people actually like. I can’t walk out of the house without getting bright red, burning, or slathering myself with sunscreen—or all three at once.

Worse? All the non-natives saying, “Oh, how wonderful. Finally, sun!” and then look at you funny when you growl at them. Then they feel compelled to try and convert you to their Church of the Sun Worshipper. Bug off. You want sun, go elsewhere. I want my cloudy days and decent temperatures.

Bah. The sun makes me cranky.