I suffer from seasonal depression. It’s probably not what you think though. It doesn’t happen when there is snow on the ground or when it dips below 40°F or when everyone seems to hibernate. I’m ok then. It doesn’t happen in the winter. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I hate the freaking winter. Aside from Christmas and maybe seeing one good snowfall, winter can suck it. However, it doesn’t really make me depressed.

Last night, I was driving my Jeep with the top and doors off. It was 59°F out. It was a reminder, a really shitty reminder, that it’s Labor Day Weekend. I hate Labor Day Weekend. As a kid, when we were “summer people” on the Cape, Labor Day meant we had to leave our beach cottage and go back to school. It meant no more sand in my toes and salt on my skin. It meant eventually my tan would fade. I’m Portuguese. I need my tan lines for true happiness. Leaving the Cape meant I wouldn’t see my summer friends again for months. Oh sure, I had my other friends, but they spent the summer visiting me anyways! There wasn’t ever, in my mind, a good, solid reason to leave! I remember the sparkle of the street lights below illuminating the Cape Cod Canal as we drove over the Bourne Bridge towards route 495. At least my mom wouldn’t make us leave until the last possible moment because she loved it just as much as we did. So it was always night time, always dark. I would stare out the station wagon window at the water down below, usually crying until, finally, I fell asleep. When I was in college, I started going to the Jimmy Buffet concert every summer with my brother and friends. He always played the Labor Day Weekend shows at what used to be called Great Woods. All summer we looked forward to another great show. The anticipation and the preparation for that day of tailgating and lawn seats was unprecedented. The hardest part was the next day. It wasn’t just a let down that the best concert of the summer was over. It was twice as bad of a heartbreak because summer was also at its end. Now, decades later, Kenny Chesney plays the end of summer show at Gillette Stadium. Again, it’s an incredible day of tailgating followed by an amazing show. I wouldn’t miss it for the world! It is, however, also a sign that summer is turning to fall. It’s a double edged sword really. We can’t wait for the show, but we also can’t rush summer!

There are so many reasons why summer is the season for me. Summer itself on Cape Cod really is its own vibe. It’s drives to Ptown and seeing a drive-in movie in Wellfleet. It’s not caring what time you have dinner or how late bedtime ends up being. It’s having time to walk the dog every morning because I’m not busy getting kids off to school. It’s cooking on the grill all the time or not cooking at all because it’s ice cream for dinner…again. It’s reading an entire book and having it not take months because of being so busy with kid’s activities. It’s summer sundresses. It’s everyone looks cooler in sunglasses. Summer just is THE BEST. You can disagree. It’s ok. You can’t be right all the time.

Now, I suppose there are some parents who welcome the kids going back to school. That’s not me. Don’t misunderstand me. They are definitely a huge pain in the ass being home all the time. They fight nearly nonstop. They leave dishes EVERYWHERE. They play way too much PS4. They eat and eat and eat some more. There is NEVER a clean towel when I need one. Try using 2 hand towels to dry your body when you get out of the shower. That’s fun. Still I would take summer any day. I do like a little peace and quiet and I’ll enjoy it tomorrow when all 4 are at school for the first time since the end of June, but it will still make me sad. It’s still a letdown. Today, as I walked the dog, I saw people packing up their cars and hugging each other and saying their summer good-byes. Allergies may have been kicking in, but I was probably just crying. I came home and did some laundry. I noticed that there were actually clean towels on the shelf in the bathroom. That’s the first time since June.

The weather is still beautiful. I am blessed to now be a year round Cape Codder, having moved here 20 years ago. The air is a little crisp, but it is still sunny out and hot when the September rain holds off. Sitting on the beach in September is nice. It’s quiet. I can certainly work remotely while sitting with my feet in the sand. I know I’m spoiled that way. Still, there is that sadness. All of my summer friends are back in their “winter” homes now. We will get to see them some weekends in the fall, which is always a bonus. Sitting next to each other in beach chairs and watching the sun glitter off the ocean is far better than a cold walk through the cranberry bogs or having to turn on the pellet stove to get the chill out of the air. I know I sound like a brat. There is still magic in the colors of the leaves and Dunks mint hot chocolate, but I can’t enjoy those in a bikini. As I always do, I will still aim my focus on the fun each season brings. Just don’t blame me when I start X-ing off the days on the calendar until Memorial Day Weekend rolls around again. Until then, I will try to hold onto this tan for as long as I can. At the moment, the house is quiet with the kids at school. It’s time for a shower where nobody barges in to sit on the toilet and chat with me. Oh, look! I even have a clean towel!