Summer Affect Disorder

I'm past the worst of it at my day job, so blogging will resume. (Among other things, I need to update my links to favorite blogs, prompted by my friend Alan Ilagan's generous mentioning of Escar-go-go in his contribution to the Thinking Blogger awards. In turn, I recommend Alan's site for, among other things, some beautiful summer photography.) The truth is, I'm also dealing with Seasonal Affect Disorder, which hits me in the summer. What's my problem with everyone else's favorite time of year? 1. I'm a lifelong nerd, and when I was a kid I hated having two months off from school. At about the Fourth of July, the novelty of waking up late would wear off, and I'd fantasize about the upcoming school year, with all its possibilities of new friends, new subjects to learn, new clothes, etc. I'd forget about all the embarrassing aspects of school (gym class!) until September. 2. I can get sunburned just by standing too close to the oranges in the supermarket. So I spend summer afternoons indoors -- or, if I must go outside for something, trying to walk under trees and awnings. I can't believe I haven't yet been arrested as a terrorist, given my habit of running from shadow to shadow every time I go out for lunch. 3. Reruns on TV or, worse, new reality series. And the movies don't offer any relief, since summer is for mindless blockbusters. 4. Boston is infested with tourists who think it's fun to lose their balance on the subway and to stop short on narrow sidewalks when people behind them are trying to dash from awning to awning. I work near Faneuil Hall, so I encounter them all the time, and they never seem to believe me when I tell them that the Freedom Trail is actually the way to the Red Light District. Today, I had to walk in the street to get around a family of six fascinated -- and paralyzed -- by the youngest daughter's re-enactment of how she stubbed her toe the day before. 5. The worst thing about summer: Not enough pockets! When it's too warm to wear a jacket, I have nowhere to put loose change (it all goes into tip jars), my cell phone, my camera, my five or six pens, or all the slips of paper I need to remind me of my cell-phone number, what I need to pick up at the drugstore, and the stuff I want to write about on my blog. If only I looked better in cargo pants, I'd be caught up on all my blogging, personal errands, and self-improvement regimen by now...