Summer's End

September is here, the rains have begun in Portland, and as my last week of freedom comes careening toward me at breakneck speed, I've been trying to think of a good way to come to terms with Summer '09. It hasn't been easy. Without getting too personal and too weird for an online blog (but that hasn't stopped me before), to sum it up briefly: this has been a difficult few months. I haven't had a job all year, and that combined with all the usual problems that come with being single and over-educated in the northwest has led to some existential evenings and frustrated fidgeting. In a lot of ways, I've been looking forward to working and going back to school more than anything else, which in and of itself makes me wonder what's wrong with me.

The problem vying for the most computational time in the old brain-pan has been that of being in my mid-30's. Americans love to make a national pastime of concerning themselves with age in all of its various forms: we are obsessed with babies, want to appeal to young people, expect the middle-aged to actually do everything, and worry endlessly about what to do with the old. I've fallen into that trap, undoubtedly; one of my favorite movies has always been Brazil, but having finally reached the age of the main character, it's uncanny how much that film captures what I'm feeling and thinking these days. It is surprising how much of our lives are spent running business & goverment created mazes, and how much energy we will spend on looking for (or maintaining) romances.

Probably the most annoying aspect of all of this is the fact that I am not singular in these experiences or sensations. We all have trouble with money, being alone, jobs, dating, and, essentially, living. Even yet still more annoying is that, as we age, our perceptions of these things follow a somewhat predictable trajectory. As we go through the ups and downs of being human, our experience is almost identical to that of a large portion of the people our same age, gender, tax bracket, etc. There's nothing worse than feeling alienated and put upon, except to find that everyone else is too busy feeling alienated and put upon to notice.

The primary frustration I had with this summer (and, to a large extent, this year) is that I freaked out far too often, occasionally in public, but mostly around people I count as friends. I feel terrible about that. While many good things did happen for a lot of people this year, there isn't anyone among my friends who doesn't have some kind of hardship too. If anything, I wish I had been a better friend, and I wish that I could strike that delicate balance between making time for myself when I need it, and making time for everyone else for the exact same reason. I guess I shouldn't hold that against myself too much, as it seems to be a problem for others. But the largest amount of the guilt I carry now comes from trying to deal with the way I've treated people at a time when I should have been trying to maintain as many friendships as possible.

In spite of all of that, summer did offer some good opportunities that I took advantage of, and gave me a chance to spend more time than I ever wanted to participating the art of self-reflection. I completed 1 & 2/3 of the 2 'zines I had planned for the break, maintained a clean house for most of the summer, fully took care of my yard in all the ways it needed to be handled, and didn't renege on my promise to quit drinking. I even managed to fit in a few social activities here and there, and focused a lot of positive energy into the radio station on a more than weekly basis. If I remember summer '09 for anything, hopefully it will be those things.

The week after next I will start my job (finally), and two weeks later I start taking (and teaching) classes. And even considering the logistics of wrapping up the few little things left to be handled in the spare amount of time left, a large part of me still feels like this was the longest summer I've ever had to muscle through.