In the summer's when you really know.

I am sick of summer. This is nothing new for me. In fact, this usually kicks around this time of the year (right around the Fringe Festival). Dunno if it's the inescapable heat, the smoky haze that's held sway over the skies of the city for the past few weeks (giving the whole place a real big-city smog vibe),the work-drink-sleep rut that I find myself in these days, or the lack of hockey on the telly, but the dog days suck ass. Maybe it's just that, for jaded twenty-somethings slowly sinking into the quagmire of adulthood, summer really doesn't have the significance it once did. The carefree days of sleeping through the morning and spending sunny afternoons running through the sprinklers on the front lawn are long gone. More's the pity, too, because let's face it: none of young adulthood's usual pursuits (drinking, smoking, rocking out, fucking) are ever half as fun as a good long dash at a Slip'n'Slide.

'Course, this is all just revisionist nostalgic bullshit. I spent most of my youthful summers cooped up inside with a book or staring at the TV which, now that I think about it, means things really haven't changed all that much. Er, right. Carry on, then.

Now that I've got the pointless self-examination out of the way, I picked up the Nuggets 2 box set from my local lie-berry this afternoon.
Which brings me to today’s Public Service Announcement: Hug your library today.

11 days to the Big Move and I'm off to get a cup of coffee.