As an accountant, I am always a week behind the rest of the world. Month end occurs the first week of the month—this is when we complete our closing tasks and finalize the financial statements. So, invariably, my calendar is never switched to the correct month until the second week into the current month.
I tell you this because I am still sitting here scratching my head trying to figure out where July went. Woosh. It was gone. There were four and a half weeks in July… down the drain. I’m working on month close again… I swear I just did this.
I’m not ready for August.
So, not ready.
I turn 34 at the end of this month.
Not ready for that either.
I remember growing up when summers seemed to last forever. Hot, lazy days, muggy nights that stretched out endlessly before me. Days filled with trips to the library, soaking in the pool, lying in the air conditioning reading books cover to cover.
As an adult, it seems like summer is just another month in the calendar. Three hot months then back to cooler months. Three hot months of wearing sandals and shorts on the weekends. Three hot months of frizzy hair and a fan blowing the papers around on my desk.
Did I mention I am not ready for August?
I don’t want to turn 34.
I want to be 14 again with the lazy days of summer stretched endlessly in front of me. Books piled by the bed. My library card burning a hole in my pocket.
Okay, so maybe not 14.
11? That was a good age. No responsibilities. No cares in the world.
Do you think I am too young to start lying about my age?