Seems like the last couple summers have been the hardest season of the year. Discontentment with figuring out what to do with my life seems to contrast sharply with vacationing and summer homes and relaxation. Freedom and security collide with constriction and doubt. I’ve always enjoyed the transition to fall, when the air and light changes and the evenings are chilly, but I’m also relieved.
I haven’t figured things out just yet, but at least people aren’t boating and swimming and lounging in pool chairs while I’m attempting to do so. One ill effect of not feeling fulfilled is a vague, misguided sense of resentment. Clearly I am in the wrong part of what I hope is still the right field. I don’t think there is any other field where it takes so long to get to the part where I signed up to major in ten years ago (don’t even get me started on the undergraduate “version” of said major) and the getting there part often isn’t that similar to the gotten there part. And the route from here to there, all along society’s trenches, is vastly underfunded and vastly burdened, much more so than schools and daycare even. Frickin A.
But with fall comes new energy and momentum, which will hopefully open up new directions. As an added bonus, Steve is no longer perpetually sweaty! And we have a roommate to kick things off!
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