Cynical Summer Coda

Well, it's been another rotten summer, probably the worst yet, as just about everything that could have gone wrong did. At the end of it, I ask myself: what did I get out of it? what did I do? did I have a good time at least? and so on and so forth. And the answers are pretty much the same as usual: not much, not much, and not really. It's been a summer 'to get through,' not enjoy. *Shrug* 'Tis the way of things, it seems. I don't like it, but I'm used to it.

It's been a summer, really, of nothing: I can't say I really accomplished anything, I can't say I travelled or did anything memorable or liberating, and I can't say I feel at all refreshed by the summer. It's been another summer of the same old things, happening in moreorless the same old ways. Blah.

Ah, at least the familiarity of it all makes it easier to dismiss it with appropriate cynicism. One starts to wonder, though, if one is 'putting in time' or 'killing' time-- and one starts to wonder, too, if it's true that by killing time we injure eternity. Natch. Hopefully autumn will bring better things. Probably not, but one can hope....