There is no way to stretch the summer any further than this. It is done. And to put a word to it, the end of summer is depressing.
At least I am thinking it’s that end of summer that has me so down today. Maybe it is the weather, too – a week of rain will take a toll on anyone’s spirit. Take the rain, consider the earthquake, hurricane, and flooding we’ve endured over the last couple of weeks and top it off with the 9/11 coverage; end of the world jokes don’t seem that far fetched.
And, despite the fun of being back to work, there is the predictability of it too. And the predictable part can press ruts right down into my soul. Routine CAN be good. I know that. I just have to make friends with it.
People are asking things of me. Which is great. I am happy about that. But it is tough too, because there is a piece of me that does not want to be generous. I don’t want to put myself out there, meet new people, tell and re-tell my story. Much easier to simply hang out at my own pace in my own little world.
My semester starts in a week. And my volunteer commitments are gearing up as well. Everything is just that tad bit out of my control, signaling that summer days are over.
I know that I say that I am trying to make the most of my days. And for the most part I am. Just not this one.
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