Dear Journal: These Mild Summers

ws_Late_Summer_Field_1920x1080Dear Journal,

The summer was mild until I took the air conditioner out of the window. Coincidence? I think not. Maybe there’s something to the old adage that when you least expect it something happens. It’s happened way too often for it to be anything more than a direct correlation, at least to me. I try so hard for something, and when I finally start to believe it’s not going to happen there it is. Sometimes I think I should give up more often, but that’s just not how I was made.

So I have the fan on, at least when I can, because apparently I’m the only one here who can take the breeze for any length of time. It’s like an episode of the Twilight Zone. Every time I turn it on full blast someone comes in and moves it, or turns it off, or complains about how it’s blowing their papers away. Sometimes I just leave it off because I know it will be more trouble than it’s worth. Sometimes I wish I had an internal cooling system to take care of the immense sweating. That would solve the problem.

When I was younger it wasn’t a problem. We never had an air conditioner so it wasn’t an option, but it seemed like summers were milder then. Either that or the climate change. Take your pick. Regardless, summers would come and go, and I would be none the warmer for it, not internally anyway. Maybe it’s my advancing age. I’ve noticed of late that things bother me now that never did when I was younger. But I’m loath to say unequivocally that that’s it, perhaps because sometimes I still prefer to deny time its sway.

Now, as fall comes, and with it the maddening inconsistency that consequently cloaks it in shadow, I realize that the mild summers may be gone for good. And maybe that means something new and amazing is on the horizon.

Sam

Dear Journal Archive

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