Summer is my least favorite season. Yes, I know that I sound crazy saying this. But it’s the truth primarily because I hate being hot. Those temperatures this past winter when it was in the single digits with a windchill hovering in the – 2 degrees range, well, I was extremely happy, giddy even. Quite frankly I fear I missed my calling and should have pursued a career working in Antarctica.
Thinking maybe there’s still time for me to experience some South Pole love, I just checked the job listings in Antarctica. What do you know there are actually some openings for writers with the U.S. Antarctic Program.
Be still my heart because where the job is located the average high temperature in June is 29 degrees. That, right there, is my love language. I’m actually swooning.
Oh wait, umm, I just saw that you have to be a “scholar” to apply for the writing job. Ugh. I’m not exactly “distinguished academic” material.
Here’s a question in need of an answer – where’s the love for the C students? You know who gets things done and still has fun? Yeah, that’s right, the C student.
To quote one of my Baylor college professors who I’m sure when he said this to me thought he was giving me a pep talk, “Average people rule the world. They’re the ones who keep everything running while the rest of us are overthinking things.”
Hmm, talk about an insult wrapped up like a compliment but I get his point. You need people who actually do the work while others ponder how the work could be done better. That said, Dear U.S. Antarctic Program when you need someone who’s neither distinguished nor academic – let me know. I’m available.
As a way to distract me from the extreme sadness I’m currently experiencing about leaving my South Pole job aspirations behind let’s move on to something else that bothers me about summer. It’s that there’s far too much pressure put on the season.
You’re supposed to have a great summer. To not have a “great summer” means you’re somehow less than. To openly admit that your summer sucked or you’re tired of summer is akin to saying you hate puppies, babies and rainbows or that you thought the musical “Hamilton” was a little boring.
The only acceptable way to diss summer, especially if you’re a mother with younger kids, is to say, “I’m getting excited for school to start.” This way you’re not actually expressing disappointment with summer but with your children and almost everyone can understand that emotion.
Summer is just way too overhyped and yet none of us will own up to it. This is because we (okay, me) live in abject fear of the onslaught of summer shaming that will descend upon us. I’m already so stressed about writing this that I’m thinking of turning off the comment section of this blog.
Hold on, I’ve just had a brilliant idea. Maybe, just maybe, this column will get picked up by the Antarctica Sun (Yes, I googled does Antarctica have any newspapers?) and perhaps someone will hear my pleas and give this non scholar a chance to write about spending a summer in winter. In fervent anticipation I’m going to get my winter puffer jacket out of the closet just in case.
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“Killer Dance Mom” my first Snarky in the Suburbs mystery is now out!!! This book features all of the Snarky characters you’ve grown to know and love. Sure, it’s about dance moms but you don’t have to be one to totally enjoy the book. Also, if you like whodunnits I’ve been told this is a good one. Click on this link for more info. www.amazon.com/dp/B0C4FZTK5B
Here’s a look at the fun awaiting you. Wynn Butler is a newbie dance mom and honestly, she hasn’t exactly been receiving rave reviews for her skills. Blinging out costumes and being your child’s glam squad aren’t exactly her strong suits. But at her daughter’s first national competition Wynn is ready to prove herself.
What she hadn’t planned for is being forced to share a hotel room with her least favorite person in the whole world – Jacardia Monroe, a mom who’s had two tours of duty at a spray tan detox clinic.
As Wynn attempts to survive the roommate from hell and cheer on her daughter, she stumbles onto a murder. Stuffed in a dance bag backstage is Kingston Reeves, a renowned competition judge. Sitting right next to that dance bag is Jacardia.
When both women became “persons of interest” in the case, Wynn decides it’s time to do some serious snooping to see who at the competition had a motive to kill the dance judge. Rallying her best friends to help her, she discovers a wide swath of suspects from the Instagram/influencer mom who brings a professional camera crew to follow her at competitions, to a crazed former ballerina turned combative dance mom and then there’s the glitter gang . . . a cadre of mothers who are addicted to rhinestoning costumes and perhaps even murder.
As Wynn gets closer to finding out who the killer is she might be one step-ball-change away from death.
Snarky in the Suburbs 