"Ah, summer, what power you have to make us suffer and like it." ~Russel Baker
So a little bit of a newsflash that I’ve been seeing just about everywhere: Summer is over, school is back in session and mothers across the country (world too I suppose) are rejoicing and there is confetti and balloons and margaritas. I even received emails from the American University notifying me of Welcome Week activities on the quad and the Container Store is having a back to school sale and…and…nothing. Because this week feels exactly like the other 51 prior.
Here’s another fun fact about working that you don’t really think about when the HR department uses the phrase “And Blue Cross Blue Shield covers everything” quadruple exclamation point: The seasons? They all run together like one giant 365 day blob where you don’t even realize that it’s Christmas until sometime near December 15th and by then you’re ordering maniacally from Barnes and Noble.
Maybe I’m feeling a bit cynical and off kilter because since last year – my first year of careerdom - I’ve had a pang of sadness come August, when I start to feel the changes in the air or I’m driving through the city and I see 47 eager Freshman in brand new Polos traipsing around Georgetown with their parents. Call it jealousy or whatever, but that’s how I’m feeling.
Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy my job and I like working and having a new sense of freedom and the ability to make my own decisions. Though daunting, it can also be exhilarating that I’m doing things that I really want to do and no one can tell me otherwise. But it is also so terribly hard to go from having all the time in the world and vacations and summer camp and a week to just ‘BE’ on a beach somewhere far far away. It’s as if one day I had all of those things – and of course complained because summer camp was just so terribly difficult – and the next day *poof*. Gone.
I’d be remiss not to mention that I did just return from a (very brief) vacation (Read: long weekend) in lovely
I need a time machine. So that I can be transported back to 1998 – hell, 2003 – and be forced to take a vacation or to nap without having to worry about what I would be leaving behind or coming back to. Hindsight is so very 20/20. It’s amazing how little I appreciated the Christmas break, winter break, spring break and blizzards. If only I could do it all over again, but this time with feeling.