Pony: there ain't no cure
8.11.2004
I slept soundly in the country. Chris and I rented a cottage with Rich and Elanamatic and some lovely friends of Elana's from England.
For three days, we:
1) read
2) ate
3) canoed
4) ate
5) played badminton
6) stared in horror at the mounted deer head on the wall
Good times. Now I am back in the city, and can I tell you how much it sucks to work in the summer? You'd think I would be used to it by now, but no.
I get glimpses of summer riding home on my bike. Perfect little cliched embodiments of the season: A cluster of flowers, a perfect sunbeam, kids running through the sprinkler....
But it is not enough. Three day weekends are not enough to unfold into summer the way I imagine I used to. Because I have not felt a single unrestrained, loose-bodied, chlorine on the brown skin, grass underfoot, streeeeetching day of summer and it is almost over and I feel....ripped off. I kind of hate summer. So much pressure to harvest the warmth.
