Summer Longing

I am wrung out.

Tired of everything. I'm tired of money, bills, and banking. I'm tired of worrying. I'm tired of all the little things. Tired of cleaning our house and feeding the cats. I'm tired of driving. Tired of channel surfing. Tired of the treadmill. Tired of office monotany, florescent lights and hours spent doing meaningless busywork that means nothing in that 'ol "grand scheme" of things.

This wasn't supposed to happen so fast. Burnt out at 25. This can't be good.

What I want...

is a cabin on a lake with my husband and our baby and a laptop (for writing, of course.) Nothing else. No TV. No radio. And certainly no alarm clock. I want a quiet morning spent sitting on an old wooden chair, looking across still waters and sipping steaming coffee from a local shop - just within nice walking distance of the cottage. That's it. That's all I want. No money. No fancy toys. No parties or plans or places to be. Just peace and quiet. Maybe a campfire in the evening sending orange sparks into the black night air; nothing but the sounds of water rippling and the fire popping and churning.

I want to fall asleep with the smell of smoke in my hair and the rythmic lapping of the lake as my lullaby. There' s nothing better. And I crave it each summer. By August the nostalgic longing to make a pilgrimage to the summer cottages of my childhood is intense. It's not that I want to wake up and be ten again; sitting on the end of a cool wooden dock eating toast with jam, rubbing bare elbows with my sister and dipping our toes in the water; waiting for Mom to say it's ok to go in.

I just want the feeling back - the freedom of summer. Since "growing up" - summer has become just another season that bleeds into the next. The years pass quickly with little time spent on reflection. Little time spent dipping toes in the water and just resting. Just when your body and mind needs it most - life's moving too quickly and you can't just let go.

The bills are due, the alarm's ringing, the baby's crying, we're out of milk again and the traffic on 495 is stop & go. Stop & go. Stop and go: all the way to the office with florescent lights and meaningless demands - sucking away my summer.