Summer is a time for slacking.
We’ve discussed this before…so if you’re not—slacking—shame on you.
Okay okay okay….
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I know…not everyone can be a slacker…or a writer, which some say are one and the same.
But that’s just Z…and my Mom…and some if not all of my friends…okay, friend.
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Summer is like a sweet desert after a heavy meal of double, double toil and trouble; fire burn, and caldron bubble…of the previous less temperate seasons.
I’m not quite sure what that means, exactly, but hey…it’s the season for slacking. What do you expect?
In my mind…along with all the snakes…summer is a big heaping helping of Apple Pie, with an even larger scoop of ice cream—your choice—slowly melting down and into the sides.
The more it melts, the tastier the pie.
And that’s how we should all feel about summer as we sit back and allow ourselves to melt down and into the sides of July.
“No worries, Mon…toes in the water, a—uh, butt in the sand….”
Because if you can’t dissolve into July…when can you?
Not January…nothing melts in January.
Certainly not February, when you can barely feel your toes, and you’re a—uh, butt is just plain frozen.
No…July, right through August…the melting season.
But not everyone is on board with this passive approach to summer…let alone slacking.
Some would rather take a different approach—a more aggressive one.
The idea of simply melting away, into anything makes them feel….
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