Single in Sandpoint: The Season of Acceptance

By Scarlette Quille
Reader Columnist

It’s summer. Go with it.

Summer is the season of acceptance. One must just accept their current situation as it is, because you are just too busy laying on a floaty sipping a cocktail to do anything about it. Forget about ridiculous things like cooking, cleaning, organizing or self-improvement. Save those grand notions for some other season — it’s too hot for that shit now. Diet? Pshhh … if you have a gut in the middle of July, it’s time to accept it. Love it, cover it in oil, tan it, let it roll on out over your shorts and own it. You’ve made it through half the summer together,  no use in trying to hide it now.

Illustration by Angela Euliarte.

Summer is not the time to be cleaning the house or bathing the kids or cooking gourmet meals.  Every free moment should be spent on the lake, sleeping under the stars and soaking in the sun’s precious rays. Every crevice of your body should be sunkissed and full of sand, and if it isn’t you aren’t getting the message. There is time for working out, home improvement, groomed children and cooking in the seasons to come.  When it’s cold outside, you have all the time in the world for regret, and self-loathing summer is time for loving the weather and yourself.

I don’t understand people who take time out of summer for things like folding laundry or yard work. Our days in the sun are numbered in North Idaho, and every single weekend there is some sort of celebration on the schedule: barbecues, weddings, concerts. Am I really going to take my Saturday and organize my house and do chores when I could be at a bachelorette party sipping on a  penis straw on a giant flamingo floaty?  No, I chose to love myself. No regrets, just acceptance. No one needs to see the inside of your house in the summer — all entertainment and visiting should be done outdoors.  

I  honestly don’t think people in North Idaho should be required to work  full time in the summer. Can you imagine how productive your workplace would be if your employer gave you at least a three day weekend every weekend for the month of July? I bet there would be fewer people calling in sick on Fridays and Mondays. I mean seriously, what the hell are people eating on Thursday nights that renders them incapacitated for Friday? I have noticed a huge amount of sickness on Fridays, and that’s OK. Why? Because maybe they are sick — sick of being inside staring out the windows wishing that they were neck deep in a cool pool of fresh water. Let me tell you there is no over-the-counter cure or shot for that type of sickness. So you can call in with the “food poisoning” excuse if you want to, but your co-workers know the truth, and everyone just needs to get with the season and accept it. 

Personally I know that the universe has been telling me to take time off for summer. A couple of days ago, I woke up to my cat crunching the bones of a bird on the end of the bed. After barrel- rolling off the side of my bed, I spent 15 minutes half-naked in the front yard, deciding whether it was worth it to take the day off, or face the massacre in my room. Lucky for me, there was a pile of unfolded laundry in my living room, along with my car keys. I opened all the windows, semi-dressed myself and prayed no one would rob my house while I went to work. I accepted that my cat is an elite murderer, and hopefully she would get rid of the carcass by the time I got home. No less than two minutes into my commute I was stuck at the train tracks for 15 minutes, only to move on down the road and spend 45 minutes in road construction. I should have called in sick, with whatever Friday flu everyone else is getting. I was clearly being given all the signs that going to work was a terrible idea, but it was a Tuesday, so I didn’t know if the excuse would be valid. Instead I arrived at work almost an hour late dressed as a batshit crazy vagrant. This is what happens when you don’t accept the messages that the universe is telling you.

Learn to go with the lazy flow of the water this summer and just accept it. Let your inner hippie take over the driver’s seat, be the one crazy person dancing alone to the live music, show off those tan lines, take a nude dip in the lake under a full moon…

I heard there is a full moon Friday…Who’s with me?

Take a deep breath, and jump right in, Summer doesn’t last forever.

Scarlette Quille