At some point in July or August I meet up with a saturation point, when Summer seems over-populated, densely scheduled, oppressively humid, annoyingly demanding.
It’s come early this year, god help me.
And so at the subsequent stage of Over-Saturation I encounter the irresistible urge to hide, disappear, dissolve, deflect, demur, no matter what the situation or circumstance. In this way I’ve become rather good at being utterly internal while giving the outward impression of full social engagement.
Let’s be clear – this is not rudeness – it’s a form of compassion. I know that my inner curmudgeon’s Terrible Intolerance (shotgun across lap) is not appropriate to expose in any but the safest of situations. People do get hit by stray bullets if care is not taken.
So I distract her with spoons…..”]”
”What did Ben say?…..””]…..and textures, all the while thinking with two minds about the whole situation: a) this is good that we can all convene here and celebrate together. I’m delighted to be part of it. It’s been so long since I’ve seen _____ – missed him alot. b) What’s after this? Do I have time for a nap?
Forgive me, world.
And give me the strength to make it through the summer with compassion, and without using my mental shotgun.
My condolences to those who live in tourist towns.
[please allow your own inner grouch to sound off here. It’s healthy for for you. Say whatever comes to mind – just tell me if it’s ok to publish and unleash your bad-ass self on the world.
NOTE: my own curmudgeon has absolute veto – remember that – & she prefers articulate criticisms – no broad, empty dumb profanities. So, if you don’t like the rules go ahead and bitch, complain and rage. But use your words.]
It wasn’t actually me who took these pics – it was my kid, and my nephew, who both have healthy bad-ass inner lives.
There were nine of us there around that blue tablecloth.
Good to know I’m not alone.