August is boring, hot.

I recognize that this is a bit premature, but given the current climate I feel that at some point I should address exactly how little I enjoy how stinking hot and muggy it is outside. I hate it. As a generally sweaty person, I have consistently found myself drenched in sweat every time I brave the outdoors for more than 10 minutes at a time. It’s exceedingly unpleasant and I know it’s only going to get worse because August is right around the corner.

Because I’ve spent 90% of my natural born life as a student who actively disliked actually attending school, August has always held the great distinction of being my least favorite month.  That isn’t to say that the only reason I dislike August is because from elementary school through college it always signaled the start of a new school year. Growing up in D.C. it also consistently brought the end to any and all activities related to summer, ending camps and vacations for the inevitable return to work, athletic tryouts, and generally doing nothing fun.

I know, I know, I’ve personified a month and blamed it for the generally lackadaisical attitude people adopt when the end of the summer draws near. Irrational, yes. Justified, probably not. But the weather that consistently forced itself on the district during august can be blamed exactly enough for me to rationalize my continued dislike for august. August always seemed to serve as the apex of the heat related weather in the summer month, with every day hovering between 85 and 95 degrees with the usual humidity associated with the district. With the prospect of becoming fully saturated with your own sweat facing you outside of your air conditioned house, I can’t blame people for rarely venturing outside during August. But I can and will happily blame August for it.

As an added bonus, absolutely nothing happens in August. August has yet to nail down a specific theme for it’s general monthly celebrations, some of my favorite temporary solutions to August’s lack of monthly identity include:

  • Foot Health Month
  • National Catfish Month
  • National Golf Month

If the prospect of monthlong celebration of the human triumphs over athletes foot and large stupid fish doesn’t get you going and you aren’t rich enough to appreciate golf, some of the weekly celebrations are even more amazing. The first two weeks of August are designated National Clown week and National Elvis week, respectively. Elvis couldn’t even nail down an exclusive week, he has to share his week long celebration with apples and smiles. Why Clowns take priority over the King of Rock and Roll I don’t know (nor am I particularly upset about it, the obsessive following Elvis somehow garnered during his life and after his death has always made my head hurt) but that’s just the way August works.

The specific days of august are littered with birthdays and other such nonsense (my favorite was that Odie, the dog from Garfield, was somehow randomly assigned a birthday on August 6th, the same day as Alfred Lord Tennyson, because it’s an amusing contrast between a dog that is consistently portrayed as being mentally deficient and a poet laureate) But honestly, listing all of the absurd excuses for daily celebrations would be as colossal a waste of your time as the days themselves.

Oh, and the final nail in Augusts coffin is that the only consistent sporting event during the month is baseball, which (for reasons I’m sure I’ll inevitably detail later) isn’t actually a sport.

So, in summary: August is boring, uncomfortable, and inescapably attached to the beginning of the school year. I call on the religions of the world to figure out a reason to celebrate in the middle of August, it desperately needs the pick-me-up.


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