When I was a child….
Okay, time out. Don’t roll your eyes at me. I know you are! Listen here, I am an adult. Twenty-one, in fact, college student, intern, waitress, and six flipping feet tall, thank you very much.
Thank you for settling down. So when I was a child, three months of summer were blissful, sweet, void of work, and as relaxing as my life will ever be.
My life in July consisted of:
• sidewalk chalk
• lemonade stands
• stacks and stacks of germy juvenile literature
• Totino’s Pizza and I Dream of Jeannie reruns
• fun in the sprinkler (except the infamous 4th of July sprinkler collision. Ask me about that later.)
Now summer is busy. It’s a work shift from 11 AM to 9 PM during which all you eat is goldfish and a rhubarb pancake. It’s waking up at 5:30 – 5:30!!! – to train for a race before you head off to your big girl internship.
It’s networking in your free time, when Satan jumps on your bed and howls, “if you don’t get on LinkedIn RIGhT now, I will make sure you are unemployed after college!”
It’s Skyping with friends because they live far away, and feeling lonely sometimes because they do.
Summer is weddings, too.
It’s time to grow up and be an intern! Unpaid! Suck it up and just do it, girl!
It’s time to read Chuck Colson, and drink coffee not because you need it, but because you can.
Summer, in short, is older now. It is not what it used to be – but it’s still beautiful and good.
It’s maybe even better.