It's the last ripe days of August. In half a week, it will be September. This time of year is so bittersweet for me.
All summer, I feel like I wait for the season to start and imagine so much time stretched out ahead of me. We'll go here and there, do this and that, live a carefree, shoeless existence for three months like every summer movie ever made. I'll be the bohemian and break from an otherwise buttoned-up, serious world. We'll feel the electricity of thunderstorms that break oppressive heat waves. We'll have a road adventure and make all kinds of discoveries. Office-work will slow down long enough for us to feel like children on school break. At least, that was the dream.
And I have one more week to make it happen.