Summer where art thou?

I only half-heartedly bemoan the end of summer. Aside from the damn-dirty-lie that summer is a slower time, boating and not having to wear socks, I don't like summer very much. I hate the heat, I'm not a huge fan of the clothes and all that delicious fresh fruit and all those long weekends make dieting a real bitch (not that I would suggest that we actually eschew said indulgences, I'm just being crotchety). If I could, I would live in a perpetual fall, with occasional bouts of Indian summer.

While I was very keen to start transitioning into my fall wardrobe, and happy to be free of those same clothes I've been wearing since May, I felt a little bit of sadness for the summer that really never was. Only at the end did I find the time to nap on patio chair, waking occasionally to see shapes in the clouds (lobster being the shape of note). That was definitely a highlight. I don't know what that says about my life, but having the time to see a cloud in the shape of a lobster was, well, something I'd never done before.

So I mourned this summer. I was a hard one. Emotionally, professionally, it seemed tough to me. And I came out of it feeling really tired and really drained. Then I saw people wearing white shoes and started mocking them in my head. I felt instantly better.

I suppose if I can't be well-balanced and cheerful, I can at least be wickedly evil.

Today's sing-a-long song: "Girl for all seasons" from Grease 2

HRH