Summer is here – Bah! Humbug!

I know I’m in the minority on this one. But I can’t stand summer. When the solstice arrives, the only thing I celebrate is the promise of darkness’ return.

I hate the bugs. I hate sweating. I don’t care for skimpy summer clothes or sticky, hot car seats. I loathe not being able to bake, and paying out the wazoo for air conditioning. Sun-tanning? Gimme a break. Unlike Superman, I am not solar-powered.

Sure, grilling is great, unless you’re the person standing over the hot coals. Going to the beach is fun, except when the beach is a two-and-a-half hour drive each way. The one saving grace is ice cream, but even that is something I have to limit to a weekly treat rather than a daily one.

Summer days are too bright, too warm, too humid and too long. Worst of all, they’re filled with pain. Because for me, summer is migraine season. Yes, I get migraines all year long. But three of my biggest triggers — heat, humidity, storms — occur most often between May and September.

For the uninitiated, migraines = misery. Imagine the worst headache you’ve ever had, now triple the intensity. Localize the pain to a single location, as if someone is stabbing you in the right eye or at the top of your neck with a rusty ice pick. Toss in exhaustion, nausea, dizziness and extreme sensitivity to light, sound and smells and that’s almost what a migraine feels like. Now imagine having all of that for 8, 10, 15, 24 hours at a time. Two or three times a week. Such is the case for me each summer.

Yet that’s not even the worst part. The worst part about having migraines is that they murder time, they literally steal your life away. When you have a migraine, it’s nearly impossible to work for 10 hours at a stretch. Or be creative in any sort of capacity. Or hit the gym for a daily workout. It’s beyond frustrating.

Summer has just begun and yet I’ve already had three migraines this week. One lasted 20 hours, the second 14 hours and last night’s was a 15-hour doozy. Post-migraine, my body and mind are utterly exhausted from the effort of fighting off the pain. And I dread leaving the confines of my air conditioned and barely lit office for fear of getting another one. Yes, I am not a happy camper, my friends, so let me apologize in advance for any grumpiness I may exhibit. I’ll be better when Autumn returns. I promise.