July 19, 2006

seasonal depression

“It’s so hot out, I just can’t stand it.” It’s the girl in the office who talks loudly and often and never has anything of any real significance to say.

It’s July, I want to say to her, softly and just once. It’s summer and the heat, as long as I’ve been alive, has always corresponded with this season, unless you’ve recently spent a lot of time in Alaska and are still adjusting to the light.

Nothing has changed. Nothing will change. It will always snow in January and be hot in July.

When I think of things I can’t stand (lies, local news, country music, people who talk loudly and often when they don’t have anything of any real significance to say, math, limp handshakes, all of the Times columnists, people who don’t know the difference between their and they’re), I don’t think of heat.

Then it rained last night (does it rain in Alaska?) and the heat is now considerably less. It's standable. More able to stand.

So now I’m just wondering, waiting to hear about what she can’t stand next. And I know I’ll hear it. Often.

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