It's not like you don't have a calendar

One of my favorite books that I read last year, Encyclopedia of an Ordinary Life by Amy Krouse Rosenthal, has an entry about days of the week, and the importance of not stating the obvious about Fridays (yay!) and Mondays (boo).

I originally started writing this on Friday, in one kind of mood. And now it is Monday, and I'm in another kind of mood.

It is important not to state the obvious about these moods. Hence it is worth reporting that I am maybe feeling the opposite about Friday and Monday at the moment. This seems like a landmark happening, as if my mental outlook has realigned in some fundamentally important way. But maybe it just means that it's summer and my calendar is all whopper-jawed.

Por ejemplo, as we say en espanol: Last Friday I wrote, then spent five hours in a school-related meeting, afternoon into the evening. By choice. And enjoyed it. And today, Monday, I taught, will soon write, and am strangely motivated to cross items off a list I compiled a month ago.

Whopper-jawed for sure. Or maybe I've just got a close eye on the calendar, and I know this summer won't last forever. Deadlines, people. Things to write. Items to cross off lists. And days of the week that I will neither complain about nor celebrate, that merge together to a point where I realize that I'm doing what I want to be doing.

Now, the trick: how to turn summer into the rest of the year. I'll get back to you on that one. (I suspect it will involve alchemy. And a chalkboard full of formulas.)