I can never go back to real life
When my classes end for the summer, I always quip to people that I’m on summer vacation because the only thing I’ll have to do now is go to work 9-5, and then have five blissful hours of freedom in the evenings.
I’ll think to myself that it’s not a true vacation unless you’re doing absolutely nothing, like you used to do in the summer before school started, but then I remember back to my summers in middle and high school. They were filled with summer work: English books to read, history essays to write, current events to synthesize.
We would get the work on the last day of school, or during the first hazy days in July, a package would come in the mail, the dreaded assignments. No matter how I tried to finish them ahead of time, there I would be, the last couple weeks of August, frantically writing, terrified I wouldn’t get an A and be off to a bad start with my new teacher.
This past summer semester was my hardest one in school yet: I started a new job almost exactly at the same time as three classes started, and I signed myself up to give at talk at Philly WordCamp in the middle of the month. As a result, my June was hell.
These days, I truly am doing nothing. Or, I’m only do things that aren’t annoying: as you can tell, I’m not blogging, I haven’t picked up my novel since last week.
I have no commitments other than to my friends and family.
I come home, maybe make some dinner, maybe eat some watermelon. Maybe Mr. B and I go for a nice long walk around the neighborhood, maybe we watch some bad Russian tv. Maybe I eat a popsicle.
My calendar is clear of any school/teaching/tech obligations until late August.
I lay on the couch and read books. I’ve already finished The Luminaries and We Have Always Lived in the Castle. I start long, thoughtful, angry, poignant blog posts and don’t finish them. I start short tweets that have jokes and don’t tweet them.
Sometimes I get manicures.
Sometimes I just open the windows and smell the sweet grass Mr. B is mowing.
I have never been this unbusy in my entire life.
And it’s scary how good it feels.