The special malaise of a humid late September

I don’t want to do anything. I don’t want to go to work, I don’t want to see people, I don’t want to read or write or apply for grad school. I just want to listen to podcasts and sleep in my de-humidified apartment. I don’t want to grade papers that no one looks at or plan lessons that will just end up being canceled or wait for my clothes to dry in the never ending rain. I just want to stop.

I am tired. I am tired and irritated and bored. I feel uneasy, but don’t have the energy to do anything about it.

We have been locked in solid clouds and rain for a few weeks now, and while the temperature has slowly been dropping, it is still often too hot and too humid. My head hurts all of the time. Today the sun is out for the first time in many days but the humidity makes it a bittersweet reunion.  

I’m just not sure how other people get things done. How are people productive when the weather is endlessly awful and life is seemingly meaningless? How do people find purpose in the purposelessness of existence?

When you fall into the malaise of a humid September it doesn’t take long for people to become annoyed with you. Soon they stop replying to your messages, stop inviting you on outings, and adopt that special expression of politely posturing interest that anyone who was fallen into this particular malaise will recognize as possibly the first sign of their own September decline.

I hope that when the clouds eventually part in October and the humidity slowly works its way out of my laundry the anxiety and apathy of this month will go with them. I hope this, but maybe it’s time to abandon that hope. Maybe it’s time to complete my transformation into an adult and accept that the malaise of this humid September is really just the malaise of life. What is an adult if not an ever-morphing lump of apathy and unease?



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