September through May is a tough time for all of us. It's rough for me because I'm hard at work, molding young minds and thus shaping the future of our country. It's probably even more difficult for you though, because you have to live these nine months every year without an update to this life affirming blog. Well, the wait is over. I'm here to rescue you from the very boredom that is your working life. And, unlike with me each summer, your work life will never really end or even pause until you turn 65 or die--whichever comes first.
So now that the school year has officially come to a close, I have begun my new summertime routine, which is alternating drinking wine outside with binge watching mindless TV.
Here are the details on both:
My backyard seemed quite empty the first day of summer break, so I decided I needed to fix that while sticking to my budget. Since I boycott Walmart (saw too many butt cracks last time I ventured in), I went to Ocean State Job Lot, which seems to be a hell specific to New England. It's filled with meth head employees who regret taking on a part time job to feed their habit. I walked in, not knowing what exactly I was looking for, but I knew I'd recognize it the moment I saw it. And indeed I did. Not even 10 feet into the store, and already my eyes lit up, my mouth watered, and my entire body shook with anticipation. There it was in all its glory--an inflatable swimming pool size 10 feet by 6 feet. I walked over to the colorful box and looked for age restrictions such as "For 5-10 year olds." Much to my delight, there was no age limit, but there was a picture of several children in the pool at the same time. This means the pool would be large enough for multiple people to enjoy the pool party at once. I knew Dylan would be thrilled. (More realistically, I knew I had to get home and inflate it before he would have the chance to tell me to return it.) I checked the price, and immediately made the best $20 purchase of my life. Even better, since I am getting paid my regular teacher salary over the summer, I actually got paid to shop at the devil's store. Now, my backyard is filled with joy. Each day, I pour myself a glass of white wine, grab a book, and head out to bask in the sun in my luxurious swimming pool that the neighbors certainly envy.
The details on my binge TV watching are less thrilling and much more pathetic. I recently came across a youtube channel of TV bloopers and started watching all of the bloopers for each season of The Office. I couldn't stop watching, even after I quietly judged myself, and Dylan joined in by loudly judging me. I then began to re-watch the entire Office series (on season 3 now), and I realized I truly hate Jim. I think he's a creepy stalker. More importantly, one day while I was watching these people move about their cubicles and commiserate over their meaningless jobs, I thought of you, reader, and what your life must be like. Of course, I can't relate, but I did try to put myself in your sensible, appropriate shoes, and it was terrible to imagine. You wake up every morning, drive to the same fluorescent-light filled room, make small talk near the coffee maker, and dread every incoming email. I'm sorry that is your life. I'm truly glad it's not mine.