It's bumming me out that summer is almost over. The irony is, I keep wishing that summer would end so it wouldn't be so hot. It makes my brain melt--not unlike the dubbed copy of Jon Bon Jovi's "Slippery When Wet" tape I carelessly (irreverently) left baking in the car when I was sixteen. I'm clearly warped.
Aside from the debilitating heat, I truly am a bit despondent over the demise of summer '10. It was too short for being such a momentous summer. After all, in the history of my life, this summer is a whole chapter--the summer I got married. This summer has been a pretty big deal for me as a result.
For that reason I want to hang on to this humid, dehumanizing season for just a little longer. What can I say?--I'm masochistic that way. This summer is like a tangible learning curve. Not only do I get to use it as an opportunity to recharge and refresh for the school year, but this particular summer I was supposed to find out the "rules of engagement", so to speak. And since I'm not even close, I find myself acting like the kids I teach. I cry out to the powers that be, "I'm not ready yet!" or "I just need a little more time to figure it out!"
Which is exactly the reason I need to chronicle this adjustment--er...journey. There's no way I'm going to figure out the dynamics of this new role--this relationship--in a summer, a year, or even a decade. It's like a secret of the universe that we need to figure out for ourselves.
So, as the seasons trudge past me, it feels as though summer has elbowed me in the gut. It's the bullying season. It flirted with me around June, winking and smiling. Now, come August, it's laughing at me and showing me its backside.
This summer was the best summer of my life. It was also the fastest. Poo.