Don’t call it a comeback
I was out with a few co-workers the other night when one told me that she was sad that her summer vacation was almost over. My first reaction was to laugh. She had just graduated, so I guess I didn’t understand that her grasp of time was still a bit different than mine. I explained to her that there was no such thing anymore. No more summer vacations, no more back to school shopping, nothing like that. In fact, my entire concept of time has changed. The beginning of April, to me, is the beginning of summer and the second a cool breeze blows through, I’m ready for fall.
It’s weird, here’s why: working in retail fucks with your sense of time. Being anywhere with no real windows to the outside world will do that too. When I’m just getting back from skiing on the weekend and step into my store on a cold, February afternoon and the first things I see are bright, pastel colors along with short sleeve shirts and swimwear, I automatically think summer. In fact, I’ve been ready for summer since right around that time seeing as I’m around attire I’d wear to the beach. In the winter. The second the sweaters, heavier clothes and thicker corduroys drop in July, I’m in fall-mode. Weird, right?
With no school to set the seasons apart anymore, every day is sort of a vacation day. And in the same breath, every day is sort of not a vacation day. Still following? Summer doesn’t ever end. If I wanted to go to the beach on a warm day in April, or even October, there’s nothing really stopping me. The point is, summer vacation, if you wanted it too, never has to end. The feeling that newly graduated seniors are feeling right now is hollow. There’s nothing to go back to come September. There’s no such thing as a school night, early morning classes or all-nighters. There’s a new beast now called the nine-to-five. Most importantly, the new year starts off in January, not September anymore.
This is probably where I struggled a bit.
To this very day, September is still my new year. Why shouldn’t it be? My grasp of seasons and time is still skewered because my schedule is still so inconsistent. Catch me in an off-moment, and I might not even know the difference between a weekday or a weekend. This, I think, is what want back most of all. I want the sense of time back. I want to know what waking up and going to work on a Monday morning feels like, as miserable it may be. I want to know what 4:45 pm on a Friday afternoon feels like. And more than anything, I want to know what it’s like to have the same two days off as mostly everyone else in the world. Every single week.
September still feels like a benchmark, I guess. There’s always going to be a feeling of newness and rejuvenation anytime after Labor Day weekend, even though the days still feel the same. I’ll even go as far as make resolutions, similar to what most people do every January 1. I’ll go to the gym more, this year, be better about what I eat, travel more, write more.
This year, I’ll write more.
