Summer is still far from over, but with many friends departing for new lives in new cities and my mostly-working-from-home work schedule returning to an onsite schedule — not to mention the cooler, gloomier weather on this first day of August — it feels like it could be fall.
That doesn't seem so sad at the moment, especially considering the reassurance I found in The New Yorker's recent look at Why Summer Makes Us Lazy. While I've been working steadily on projects, it seems I've hit that part of the warm season where I realize all those languid days have added up to a list of things I meant to have finished (or even started) by now. There's something to be said for a decrease in productivity weighed against an increase in outdoors activity — friends report that I seem quite relaxed and enviably tan.
When I take an honest look at the personal projects I've been working on, I see palpable progress with exploration down unexpected avenues. So there's also something to be said for being less goal-oriented and letting summer take you where it will — whether it's finding new places to spread a blanket and lounge or reveling in nighttime bike rides past the swell of crickets in Prospect Park. The time is finite, but the potentials are still untold.