In what is becoming an annual tradition, I’m facing a summer with nonstop work and zero breaks. A summer stuck at home. A summer with no vacation. A lost summer.
It seems that every summer there’s a reasonable explanation for a summer lost. Or at least I tell myself. Last summer, it was because I was shoved into a financial hole by my former boss, a shady businessman who didn’t pay me for three months. This summer, it’s because of all the uncertainties lying ahead regarding my entire life.
As my 10 year high school reunion approaches, I can’t help but think back to summer 2000, the last time I had a “summer”.
Summer 2000: For work, I “worked” as a recreational leader for the City of Alhambra, a job that required me to patrol parks with chicks during weekdays, coach basketball during weeknights, and work the summer street festival–with other coworkers, who are all friends–every Saturday. Yes, it was as fun as it sounded. When I wasn’t at work, I hung out with the friends doing the following: bowling, eat at Hong Kong style cafes, go to strip clubs, and play basketball.
For the longest time, I considered the summer of 2000 the “greatest summer yet”. Now, with the way my summer sucks every year, it looks like I might as well remove the “yet” from that title.
Summer 2010, another lost one.
*okay, summer 2004, when I rediscovered my friendship with V, who then promptly got me onto Alpine league basketball team (the highest level of competition I’ve ever played against), as well as inroduce me to the game of poker, followed by endless poker nights, ranks up there as the second greatest summer ever.