I would start with something pithy like, “it was the best of times, it was the worst of times,” but it’s been done. Suffice it to say I have ambiguous feelings about the summer of 2014, but that’s pretty par for the course when it comes to swimsuit season for any number of reasons. This particular summer was like going on a roller coaster expecting something thrilling and fleeting, only to get stuck upside-down for three hours dangling and wondering what you were thinking in getting on the damned thing in the first place. Then, the gears shift, and you’re back in the saddle. No harm, no foul.
Alright, fine, I’m being dramatic. Still though, tell that to them.
First, as is my typical complaint, it was hot. Like, stupid hot. Sahara hot. David Beckham hot. That heat was coupled with an office environment that mimics our current situation in terms of climate change: completely unpredictable, with an identifiable cause that the “powers that be” choose to ignore because it’s expensive (see what I did there?). So when I wasn’t wearing a parka in June, I was blasting six fans in July trying to keep the pit stains at bay.
Those warm days aren’t so attractive now, are they?
I also didn’t make as much progress as I wanted to get the book published, I bought paint for the living room that has been staring at me since May-ish, and my laundry room project has stalled indefinitely. A few friends are fighting serious health problems, the avocado died, and the world started to come apart at the seams (again). This is the sh$%show stage that was set for ’14.
But the show must go on.
There were admittedly some highlights as well. I rocked reunion, and have been able to somehow continue to stay relatively skinny (praise Jebus). Vaughn got married, I went to Idaho on purpose, and I’ve been able to get things closer to the way I want them to be in terms of a work-life balance (almost). I’ve perfected my ability to sleep sitting up, and I even kept the cat alive against my better judgment.
I’ll go ahead and call that a win. For today.
So goodbye, summer. I know that fall doesn’t officially begin until the 21st of September, but school has started and it’s getting cooler and nicer out. So that date is arbitrary. Dear autumn: welcome. Do me a solid and actually exist for a few weeks before the skies open up and I hibernate socially for the winter. Until next time, stay classy (and mind the seasons) Salt Lake.