jtmitchum.com

When I was too young to care about my age, summer was the warmer time when I and my entourage of imagined sentients took to the back yard more often.

I was more likely to explore the Universe, which was less than a block long.

School hits, and summer becomes a break. It is also the only real break. Winter break is more like a pause with classes on the mind, but summer is an actual break.

Later, I could push a lawnmower and lift things as my teen years came to be. Summer remained a break, but working was a part of that break.

When I moved out of the house, summer returned to a warmer season when I was more likely to go outside again. However, the word ‘break’ never really fits in again. At the very most, it could have a vacation interspersed with the working days.

I bought a house, and now summer looks to be no longer a break or vacation of any type. It’s the time I can do ’shit’ to the house. Sure, I think about vacations, but I’m also thinking of doing ’shit’ to the house.

I mean, during the winter, you spend all season just doing ’shit’ around the house. But in summer, you get to return your vengeance to the house by doing ’shit’ to it.

I’m taking summer classes, I work for a sleep lab and I work for the University of Kansas. Summer is a shitty time of year.

It’s not all bad. While I’m working on the house, I’m pretty sure I’ll get sunburn. Maybe, if I’m really lucky, I’ll dehydrate and die before really completing anything during the season, which started in my life as the most relaxing time ever.

I think I understand why beer is truly proof that God loves us all. It’s not all bad, it’s just not what it used to be. That seems to be the pace of life.