I never liked Sunday when I had an office job. At about three in the afternoon, like clockwork, the dread would start to set in. I could feel it physically in my chest, a heaviness. Then the depression about the week ahead would arrive. It ruined the day. Five days of misery and only one day of the week, Saturday, when I would feel light. It was a horrible way to live.
My solution arrived through happenstance: there was a time when I couldn’t find a regular job, so I started to freelance. And I’ve been working as a contractor for over 20 years now. I no longer have dread on Sunday or any day. I often thought I was just not meant to work, that I needed a rich husband. But I was pleased to discover I am an extremely hard worker, and generally enjoy my work. I didn’t know I simply needed to work on my own schedule. Not being trapped in an office for a defined number of hours made all the difference in the world to my mental well-being.
Sadly, I do still feel this same dread. It comes every year without exception when the calendar flips from August to September. The second the temperatures start to drop just a little and the darkness sets in earlier and earlier, I begin to feel it in the pit of my stomach. Knowing the long, dark, cold winter is ahead, causes me profound depression. I don’t understand people who go on and on about how much they love autumn. Everything is dying, the colour and light are leaving. Sure, it can be pretty for a fleeting moment, but it ends in ice, shovelling, runny noses and frozen digits. What’s to like? I am always cold, the only time I am comfortable is when it’s over +28 degrees. Below that, I am chronically battling to feel relaxed in my body. So summer is the only time I physically and mentally feel good. Perhaps I am part gecko.
This past week the weather has been lovely and summery. Above 30 degrees every day, sunny, even a bit humid. Thank goodness. I soaked it up, cycling every day, cooling off in the pool and relishing the feeling of warmth on my skin. But the rain has arrived, and I know that yesterday was the last day I will feel truly comfortable for months to come. This dread can’t be good for me, just like the office job. I wonder if I lived somewhere without winter for a while, if it would break the cycle. Maybe if I knew what it was like to always be warm, I might not hate the winter so much. Maybe if I lived somewhere with a much longer warm spell, a full season or more, it might change my mind. Perhaps I need to live somewhere equatorial.
All I know is winter is absolutely not for me. Not any tiny part of it. I was born in summer, so maybe it’s just in my genes. I love not wearing socks or piles of sweaters. I can’t stand being overheated in all those clothes inside but frozen outside. I am madly in love with summer; it’s freeing. It’s absolute freedom to me.
