Helena Fitzgerald writes in her newsletter Griefbacon about how summer is great but it also objectively sucks in a number of ways:
Everyone is so excited about summer and everything is so obligated. It’s so much harder to have fun at a party that everyone aggressively insists is the best party ever than at one nobody cares about. Summer always has to be the best party; summer has main character syndrome. Summer thinks every story is about summer, and is always changing the subject back to itself.
Summer is a try-hard, showing up to a wedding in a bikini, getting too drunk and getting you kicked out of your favorite local bar. Summer is the seasonal version of trying to have a conversation with someone who’s on coke, and it’s the feeling of being so tired that you can’t actually fall asleep. It’s obvious and sweaty and too fast and too slow at once, and everybody wants you to love it and be happy about it, which makes everything bad about it worse.