I'm sorry I hate the beach.
I know everybody else loves it. The beach is like that guy that all of your friends love and invite everywhere and you just...hate.
For really no reason at all, you just...hate him.
Every summer, I dread the expectation everyone has that I should be at the beach whenever it's nice out. "Why aren't you at the beach?" "Have you been to the beach yet?" "The beach was amazing today. Just what I needed." "Don't you wish the beach was a person so you could make love to it on the beach?"
Technically the problem isn't the beach--it's me.
I hate relaxing.
I don't see the point of driving somewhere, putting a towel down, and then just laying on it waiting for your skin to change color. There's something really lizard-esque about the whole thing.
And why do we need the beach when we have pools? --Which are really just little private beaches without the crowds, over-priced parking, or possible sharks.
(Unless you're swimming in a Japanese businessman's pool, but even then, the sharks are private pool sharks, so they're way cleaner.)
I hate sand. Ugh, I hate sand so much. And I can't seem to find anybody who can really defend sand. Like, as a thing. Okay, maybe it's fun for sand castles, but mine always looked like a Mormon compound, so I just decided to full-out hate sand.
Sand is the reason you don't just go to the beach for a day. You go to the beach for six weeks, because that's how long it takes to remove all the sand from the beach out of your life once you've welcomed it in with open arms like a Trojan horse that wants to live in your shoe forever.
Everything you take to the beach with you has to be hosed down or all-out burned before you can take it back to society with you. Once it's on the beach it has been compromised. Either it's going to be filled with sand, seaweed, or microscopic snails.
(No, I have no proof that microscopic snails actually exist, but just the possibility of it is enough to keep me at the mall when it's ninety degrees out in July.)
I hate when people talk about the "beach smell" like it's so wonderful. To me, it smells like someone just went swimming in the jellyfish tank at the aquarium and then rubbed baby lotion all over themselves.
Mostly, it's just the thought of traveling somewhere to sit around and do nothing. I like to have things waiting for me when I get there--stores, rollercoasters, a giant ball of twine.
Relaxing to me means not relaxing.
But you all have fun and I'll see you in the Fall.
Just be sure and hose yourselves down first.
I know everybody else loves it. The beach is like that guy that all of your friends love and invite everywhere and you just...hate.
For really no reason at all, you just...hate him.
Every summer, I dread the expectation everyone has that I should be at the beach whenever it's nice out. "Why aren't you at the beach?" "Have you been to the beach yet?" "The beach was amazing today. Just what I needed." "Don't you wish the beach was a person so you could make love to it on the beach?"
Technically the problem isn't the beach--it's me.
I hate relaxing.
I don't see the point of driving somewhere, putting a towel down, and then just laying on it waiting for your skin to change color. There's something really lizard-esque about the whole thing.
And why do we need the beach when we have pools? --Which are really just little private beaches without the crowds, over-priced parking, or possible sharks.
(Unless you're swimming in a Japanese businessman's pool, but even then, the sharks are private pool sharks, so they're way cleaner.)
I hate sand. Ugh, I hate sand so much. And I can't seem to find anybody who can really defend sand. Like, as a thing. Okay, maybe it's fun for sand castles, but mine always looked like a Mormon compound, so I just decided to full-out hate sand.
Sand is the reason you don't just go to the beach for a day. You go to the beach for six weeks, because that's how long it takes to remove all the sand from the beach out of your life once you've welcomed it in with open arms like a Trojan horse that wants to live in your shoe forever.
Everything you take to the beach with you has to be hosed down or all-out burned before you can take it back to society with you. Once it's on the beach it has been compromised. Either it's going to be filled with sand, seaweed, or microscopic snails.
(No, I have no proof that microscopic snails actually exist, but just the possibility of it is enough to keep me at the mall when it's ninety degrees out in July.)
I hate when people talk about the "beach smell" like it's so wonderful. To me, it smells like someone just went swimming in the jellyfish tank at the aquarium and then rubbed baby lotion all over themselves.
Mostly, it's just the thought of traveling somewhere to sit around and do nothing. I like to have things waiting for me when I get there--stores, rollercoasters, a giant ball of twine.
Relaxing to me means not relaxing.
But you all have fun and I'll see you in the Fall.
Just be sure and hose yourselves down first.
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