Clichés about Summer

First off, summer is completely overrated. You know the clichés, the road trips, the beach, the romances and the relaxation or the summer job. Well I say, BULLSHIT! Like, fine. Clichés do have some substance, but really, why are we expecting so much from them? Like, honestly? Do we really think that we all will have some summer romance, or go to the beach each weekend or shop or go on a road trip? Or are they simply born out of our need to do those things and Hollywood makes a lot of money from them to make it the norm? Or is it just the norm for people who have a license?
I also love the cliché that everyone has fun over the summer. So…no one works…? And if they don’t work, they are bored. Like me, which is why I’m doing this in the first place. After all, this is cheaper than therapy. Anyway, summer is boring as hell. Those who can’t get a summer job (like me!) because of some fucked up corporate policy that doesn’t allow anyone under the age of sixteen to work even though they have a fucking worker’s permit and are WILLING TO WORK (!) are turned down for some college burnout who actually needs to relax. Unlike me. Relaxing is overrated. You can’t do anything while relaxing.
I also hate how during the summer, everyone is hanging out with a specific group of people. If you ask me, I can’t hang out with my friends for more than three hours in a row before I start wanting to kick them out. Like really? Do people really hang out with people they saw all school year? Don’t you want to murder them after so long together? And then, you get bored so you have to invite them back over to your house (because apparently their house is sacred, or something).
The sad thing is though, you want your summer to be like a movie. You know, you get your license, get your friends for a road trip to Las Vegas where you meet these gorgeous and sensitive guys who sweep you off your feet and make you fall in love with them, while at the same time being careful of your boundaries. I want that…and it’s the fifth summer where I’m stuck at home watching old reruns of Sex and the City while jealously slut-shaming Samantha for getting that many guys. Oh well, maybe I’ll do that next summer, even though I’ve been telling myself that since I was twelve. The sad thing? Summer’s almost over.
But yeah, summer’s definitely overrated.

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