As much of the nation trudges toward another summer equinox, caught in the stifling embrace of a triple-digit heatwave, I can’t help but wistfully check the weather forecast for my hometown in Southern California, where they have been enjoying temperatures of a balmy 80 degrees.

Running a finger down my laptop screen, I take a gulp of damp air and whimper, “It’s a dry heat.”

(As with all things, I handle the heat with quiet dignity.)

I was thinking, though, about how I write these summer posts every year, yet I have hitherto failed to come up with a permanent, workable solution for my soul-withering heat rage.

That’s about to change.

I’m here to introduce a brand-new concept that will revolutionize the warmer months for millions of people worldwide:

SUMMER HIBERNATION.

Listen, I get why the wild animals want to do their hibernating in winter. That’s fine. Whatever. They can do their own thing. But I am a domesticated animal. I buy my food at the grocery store. I am not subject to the whims of Mother Nature. I can control my own destiny.

And I feel, in my heart, that my destiny is to become the first human to be cryogenically frozen in order to escape icky weather.

Now, you might be wondering, “Is it completely necessary to go to the trouble and expense of freezing yourself for three months? Can’t you just sit in front of a fan or something?”

Well, pardner, you’re right. I could do that. Or any number of other tricks to cope with the heat. And I have, throughout the years. Hell, I used to be tough. Or at least I thought I was tough. But over time I have come to understand that I’m not tough at all; I’m the kind of person who flounces into the kitchen on a hot day and shouts, “Ah, zut! Ze baguettes ‘ave ovehrprrrroofed!” (Oh, right. I should mention I’m doing a whole baguette thing this year, but that’s another story.) And then I swoon onto a velvet chaise, which is a terrible choice because velvet holds the humidity like crazy.

That type of person is not made for the long, harsh summer. That type of person thrives in the cold. I am a plump little dumpling, hearty and compact and insulated with blubber like a walrus. But when it comes to the heat, there’s only so much you can do. You can’t spend your whole day in an ice bath. You can’t walk around naked except for a misting fan you’ve fashioned into a hat. Nope—it’s no use. I’ve gone over all the options. It’s either freeze myself or peel off my skin to avoid the agony of another broiling summer. I think we can all agree which is preferable.

Now, admittedly, I haven’t done the research. All this is still theoretical. That’s why I need YOUR HELP. Out of the dozen or so people who will read this, ONE of you HAS to know someone in cryogenics. IT’S JUST STATISTICS.

Wake me up when the fall rolls in. When the trees turn colors and the cicadas have faded away. Trust me; we’ll all be happier this way.

I await your response.

Warm regards,
Carrie Muller