When you’re not in the education world, you miss important milestones—like May. I don’t remember it starting, and I can’t believe it’s already ending.
Now, I did notice the recitals, performances, and end-of-year events I was invited to. But as far as the whole “Hi, it’s summertime!” announcement—I must’ve missed it.
Maybe it’s because my days look a little different now. I’m cooped up inside 95% of the time, and the other 5%, I’m in my car. I don’t feel the sun on my skin or catch the scent of honeysuckle in the breeze. There’s been no need for shorts yet here in Virginia—and I’m not eager to invite a sunburn or skin cancer, so I’m not rushing it.
This is supposedly the season of grilling and pool parties. But those aren’t exactly accessible when you live in a tiny apartment with a “no fire” policy and a pool with strict visitation limits.
So how do you know it’s summer as a grown-up?
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