Theory of Relativity

Prove me wrong.

That’s ridiculous, you say. The end of June brings end-of-the-year reports, out-of-control students itching to go to camp, the energy of spring-turned-summer fever, as the Morah’s energy wanes.

Yet….

I love June. Hey, give me some May if you will. The empty canvas of possibilities. Where will the summer bring me? Daily poolside journaling opportunities, recipe developing for that artichoke salad I’ve been playing around with in my head… oh wait! What if I pencil in brunch with friends or a boost in my chesed hours?

Alas. Pipe dreams. And now you know why I love June so much. Hope might spring eternal in the spring, but it hits with a mighty thud come August. (Or Rosh Chodesh Elul, whichever comes first.) The panic begins to set in around mid-July, when I realize how my summer recalibration hasn’t really begun.

Recuperating from packing up your kids for camp much? Attending to bills and files you promised you’d look at once the last bell of the last period rings? How did that work out for you?