Dear Summer… It’s Been Real.

Dear Summer,

I am thankful that you’ve let me forget what day of the week it is since the start of June.  However, I have entered the long Sunday night that is also known as August and I’m fully aware of what day it is, although begrudgingly.

You've given me plenty of time to enjoy the weather—even if "enjoy" meant surviving temperatures hotter than Hades while watering the garden for what felt like a full-time job. As much as I love summer, fall has always been my favorite season. At least autumn doesn't try to cook me alive every afternoon.

Gone are the days of staying up late and getting to wake up without the cursed alarm clock.  You also always help remind me that I can use the bathroom, eat and even leave the house when I want to. The silence is glorious. The only people calling my name are family members, and somehow none of them need a pencil.

I've already begun the annual scavenger hunt for all the classroom supplies I confidently "put somewhere safe" back in May. It's time to remember what day it is, schedule bathroom breaks like they're appointments, and answer to my name approximately 176,000 times a day.  Ah I feel the absence of your presence already.

I must spend some time dusting off my notebook for The Things Students Say, a future bestseller that I fully expect to fund my retirement. The daily chorus of "Did you just say that?" and "Wait...what?" never fails to keep me on my toes—even if it takes me an extra second to process what I just heard.

The good news is I know you'll return after months of new relationships, classroom victories, a few challenging days, countless caffeine hits, and perhaps one or two (or maybe a few more) adult beverages. Here’s to another year of learning, laughing, making math figureoutable and pretending I know what day it is.

Until next year,

Leigh

P.S. Please don't leave without taking the humidity with you.