I remember August when I was in school as being bittersweet. July always went by so quickly – by the time August arrived it felt like I was just getting into the swing of summer. I don’t really remember how we passed the time in the summer. When I was at home, I think it was a lot of lounging around the house with my brother, wishing the mosquitoes outside would just die already so we could get out of the house once in a while. When I went to visit my father, the time was filled with planned activities – trips to the cottage, going to church events that always made me terribly uncomfortable, driving to Montreal for some reason or other, going to the wave pool in Gloucester, museums and galleries and festivals all over Ottawa. It was both good and stressful to be so busy; a complete opposite from the time I spent at my own house.
July this year felt a lot like that: endless running around, trying to schedule things, getting so much done I felt like my head was going to explode. Now it’s August, and I plan to do very little for at least a few days.
Except for Dirt Series – I’m still trying to figure out if there’s a way I can swing that. Anyone want to buy a photo print?
Crap, forgot to drop off the rent check this morning. Guess I’m driving home on lunch to do so.