August melancholy

I've been kindof down for a week or so. There are a lot of factors that may play a part, the biggest one being a bout of intestinal nastiness that served to kickstart my first-ever weight-loss regimen (walk daily, eat less--well it's easy to eat less when you're afraid of the food exiting the building at top speed). It has also thrown other things out of order, which I can conveniently blame for my crabby attitude, though I am likely just tired from staying up till 2 AM watching commentary on a Freaks and Geeks DVD.

Yes, that's another reason. A stupid TV show gets you depressed? Well, if that show happens to be one of the best ones ever made, which only aired 18 episodes before boneheaded TV execs cancelled it, yes. The characters and writing/acting are so rich, so painfully real and funny, and the storylines are so memorable that it was easy to feel a part of their world. I was really pulling for the main female character, Lindsey Wier, and was a little disappointed with what she chose to do in the series finale. But it fit her character, so the integrity of the show wasn't brought down.

I've also been in Hibernate-and-Twitch mode since we got back from California. For those unfamiliar with the term, when I have too much interaction with lots of people for an extended period of time (read: any interaction with more than 2 people for 6 hours), I need to flee, sit in a dark, silent room, and twitch for at least as long as I was overstimulated. The twitching is more figurative than real, but I like to think of it as leaching the people-toxins out of my system and allowing my brain to return to simmer. The need for H-and-T has become more pronounced of late, only because I really haven't had the extended, days-long hibernation that is the only cure for an exciting, action-packed summer.

My son, who enjoys providing a play-by-play for every playdoh creation, line in a drawing, and new arrangement of toys, does not understand my love of tranquility. He plays so well by himself, but "by himself" always means the verbal ticker-tape is running: chatter, dialogue, questions, requests to find some godforsakenly-small best friend toy, and Dada-esque songs lasting ten minutes about sharks, trees, chickenheads, Jonahandawhale, and everything and anything he's ever learned about. They're hilarious songs. I just can't appreciate them fully when my brain feels like a packed subway train. Poor kid. It really is time for school to start.

Yes, school starting. I used to have incredible amounts of dread in August, when I was a full-time teacher. Every August was a condemning finger pointed straight at me, accusing me of pissing away summer months, for which I had so many grand, unrealized plans. Not only had I squandered two months of freedom, it said, but also I was behind in organizing my classroom and rewriting my curriculum, and other completely unnecessary perfectionist goals.

Fast-forward to today, then, and that familiar finger is jabbing my face. Far from squandering my summer, I did the opposite this year, but the list of things undone seems even longer somehow. Granted, we are in the process of replacing all our windows and doors, I'm selling a huge painting I did years ago, and purging excess books from our library to make room for more organized toys in boxes. All of which require moving furniture, dusting (! you have no idea), and taking down curtains and blinds. It would be daunting even if I had pissed away my summer, but as it is, the upheaval is a bit much.

Two excellent things have come from the madness. The obvious one is that we now have beautiful windows that open and keep the house noticeably cooler. I even have kitchen windows that aren't painted shut, a true novelty. The other is while shopping for cardboard boxes for D to reorganize his game systems and electronics, I passed a display of school supplies. I picked up a box of Crayola crayons, opened it, and inhaled deeply. It was like jumping into a time machine, back to a time when August held only promise for me.