For the past few weeks, I’ve been dealing with some pretty intense stress – deadlines, personal engagements, the general bump and grind of academia.  I’ve been managing to keep it together (for the most part) with only a few minor explosions which were quickly cleaned up and left nominal scorch marks on my desk.

There has, however, been a new complication.

Summer is in the air here in Boston.

This happens to me every year.  I don’t consider myself the kind of person who is deeply affected by the weather, which is why it always takes me by surprise when it does affect me.  I think part of the problem is that I’m a survivor.  No matter what’s going on, no matter if it’s snowing, no matter if it’s gray, no matter if puppies are falling from the sky, I will get my stuff together and do what needs doing.  I may grumble and whinge about it, but in the end everything will get done to my satisfaction at an appropriate deadline (and usually the quality of what I produce is rather high to boot!)

So really, some sunshine?  Birds chirping?  The perfect amount of not-too-hot not-too-cold wind?  Bah!  My work is more important than any of that!

…but it does mean that I get to break out the flirty skirts, and flip flops, and capris, and my tattoos see the light of day, and it’s pedicure season, and I can sit outside and work, and I no longer mind walking places so I’m much more inclined to do so, and going outside seems like a treat not a chore, and if I drive somewhere I can do it with the windows down so I’m more likely to take the long way somewhere…

Aw hell, I’m stuck in full-tilt end-of-semester summer fever.  I can see that my syllabus comes to a big scary close in just a few short weeks.  I can just taste the freedom at the tip of my tongue, and it tastes glorious… like rosebuds and ice cream.

This doesn’t do anything to help the fact that I’ve still got an abstract, one in-class presentation, two “here’s my work” in-class presentations, and three final papers to go until I may truly free myself from the shackles of repression keeping me hedged to my desk.

….can you cool it, mother nature?  Just for a few more weeks?