The thing about the beginning of July is, it evokes the feeling that summer is almost over.
I know, I know; there's still the Fourth to look forward to and clearly we've got a full two-plus months of "school's out" left -heck, most of us have yet to head out on the old family vacation! But, and I don't think I'm alone here, I can't help but look at the onset of July as a bittersweet occasion.
The real question is why? Why can't I - and so many others, methinks - just enjoy today for today instead of wasting it away with worries that it's, you know, nearly tomorrow?
For instance, did you know that, as of two days ago, we are losing a minute of sunlight every other day here in Ohio and that from the first to last day of July, we will lose about a total of roughly an hour and three minutes of sunlight? That's like, 3780 seconds less bright and happy. Blasted sun calculator.
I guess I have a real problem with the whole concept of "carpe Diem." This familiar Latin phrase, defined by the good dictionary folks at Merriam Webster as "the enjoyment of the pleasures of the moment without concern for the future," is a notion so foreign to me that the language might as well be dead.
Oh, right. It is.
Either way, the concept of not having concern about the future is absolutely ludicrous. How can we possibly not have concern for the future? I mean, what else is there to be concerned with other than the future?
Have you considered the possible misfortune that could befall you just by, I don't know, walking out the front door?
What if there's some cataclysmic gravitational atmospheric eruption and we get warped back into an Ice Age and it starts snowing next week? Sounds ridiculous, and yet, um, have you seen our weather patterns lately? Just sayin'.
Or, OK, what if today's the day the dreaded zombie apocalypse hits just as my boy steps outside to shoot hoops?
What? It could happen. OK, not really.
Look, you got me. It's a fine line between concern and worry. Sadly, I crossed it about 38 years ago and frankly, I can't even see the line anymore. To me, it's just a little old dot off in the horizon somewhere.
I think it's because of my nature. I seem to have an inbred penchant for assuming troubles and setting them squarely atop my own shoulders. I'm like, Atlas Patty. The bottom line is, I'm simply not a good relaxer.
You know me - I'm the gal that can't sit still during a dinner party. I have to be washing dishes as we go so there won't be a ton at the end of the night or tending to my guests' food and beverage needs every 14 seconds or so. What? They should get famished or dehydrated? Not on my watch, people.
Even if I'm at an event being entertained by someone else, I'm always the one helping to collect empty cups and plates and toss, recycle or clean as is apropos. Heck, once when I was attending a soiree at my girlfriend's gorgeous Howland home, I went into such clean-up crew overdrive that a group of folks there thought I'd been hired to wait tables for the evening.
Not only was I in my busybody glory, I actually made 50 bucks.
In any event, a Patty in motion tends to stay in motion. Worried motion.
So, my challenge to self and all my fellow Type A-ers out there - you know who you are Chris, Linda, Lizzie, Shel, et al - is to set one day aside in this quickly waning summer and do ... nothing.
Don't scrub walls at 3 a.m., no 12 loads of laundry, skip the pre-cooking of five nights' worth of dinner and - boy, this is the toughie - no running or walking 10 miles that day.
I hear that's what some people do in the summer and on weekends and at night. I think. So, by golly, we're going to take one of these summer days and just unwind and power down.
Unless, of course, that's the day the zombies come a-calling
Happy July, all!
Kimerer is a Tribune Chronicle columnist and really, really bad napper. Contact her with alternative uses for hammocks at firstname.lastname@example.org.