the weather broke before it broke me...
Jun. 30th, 2007 02:19 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lauraanne_gilmanPart of the problem with summer, for me, is that I tend to wake up with the sun -- which means that by 2pm, I've been up for close on nine hours, and yet the day isn't over yet.
I could never live in Alaska. Summer daylight-crazies would kill me dead.
However, to celebrate the return of pleasant breezes and comfortable warmth, my entire street seems to be stoop-sitting today. I returned from my morning bike ride down to the farmer's market (more goat cheese! more bread! snapdragons and hollyhocks!) to discover my downstairs neighbors and our landlord sitting outside, discussing things that need to be repaired. I added mine to the list, let Boomer out to roll on the sidewalk, and finished up work on a client's project (literary YA, and quite well-done). Productivity R us. The benefit of enjoying editing as much as I do writing -- I don't feel frustrated that I can't get to the writing just yet because this is a pleasure, and that will be a pleasure (for masochistic-creative values of 'pleasure'), and the only unpleasant stuff to be done today involves Boomer and his tick-prevention treatment. He did want to be an outdoors cat, more fool him...
And yet I keep thinking it's supposed to be dinner time. Does anyone else have this sort of summertime time-dilation effect?
I could never live in Alaska. Summer daylight-crazies would kill me dead.
However, to celebrate the return of pleasant breezes and comfortable warmth, my entire street seems to be stoop-sitting today. I returned from my morning bike ride down to the farmer's market (more goat cheese! more bread! snapdragons and hollyhocks!) to discover my downstairs neighbors and our landlord sitting outside, discussing things that need to be repaired. I added mine to the list, let Boomer out to roll on the sidewalk, and finished up work on a client's project (literary YA, and quite well-done). Productivity R us. The benefit of enjoying editing as much as I do writing -- I don't feel frustrated that I can't get to the writing just yet because this is a pleasure, and that will be a pleasure (for masochistic-creative values of 'pleasure'), and the only unpleasant stuff to be done today involves Boomer and his tick-prevention treatment. He did want to be an outdoors cat, more fool him...
And yet I keep thinking it's supposed to be dinner time. Does anyone else have this sort of summertime time-dilation effect?
