True to the dire connotations of this phrase (thanks to Will Shakespeare), I always start feeling restless and edgy about the middle of August. This year is certainly no different, and probably worse than most because I’m so completely fed up with the heat and humidity that has plagued us here in the midwest all summer. As my husband keeps telling me, we might as well be in Florida. Yes we might, except for the one hundred and one reasons we have to be here.
But that’s another story.
My irritation with August usually stems from being bored. If you know me, you’ll know that’s a word I rarely use. I always have so many projects simmering on the burners of my little brain, and usually never enough time to pick and choose which one to work on. But in August, my impetus to begin any of those projects simply disappears. I wander around the house (in which I’ve become a virtual prisoner thanks to the aforementioned heat and humidity) exasperated with myself, which quickly turns into exasperation with everyone else around me.
So August is an edgy month for me. I’m prickly in the heat, like the dried edges of the lawn that look ready to burst into flame given the barest spark. I haven’t seen any of my friends in too long, work is slow and rather dull, I’m tired of coddling the flowers in the garden. I’m irritated with the world in general, particularly with the news media who have jumped on the bandwagon of “stalled economic recovery,” doing their best to sway public opinion practically insuring it will happen, and taking away some of the hopeful optimism that was starting to spread through the country.
I’m ready for the cool winds of change to blow through.
How about you? Are you more restless at certain times of year than others?