Summer took its own sweet time arriving this year, with a cool, rainy spring that extended halfway through June. Then came the Work Apocalypse that’s kept me cooped up at the office during the daylight hours for the last six weeks or so, the peak of the hot weather in these parts. And I haven’t had a lot of fun on the weekends lately, either, due to a string of misadventures and the general sense of exhaustion that comes from working too damn much. As I result, I feel like I’ve missed out on the whole season.

Oh, the high temperatures are still topping 90, but if you’re paying attention at all, there’s no question we’ve passed a turning point. The “monsoon” rains that usually hit around the first of August have come and gone, and in their wake, the days have lost their furnace-like intensity, like a fire that’s been banked for the night. The mornings are getting cooler, and there’s a mellow quality to the air that always reminds me of the smell of pencil shavings, and leather jackets, and pretty co-eds in plaid wool skirts.

Normally, back-to-school time is my favorite part of the year. The cooler weather suits me better than the scorching dog-days, and it makes for lovely top-down driving conditions. And I like the golden-hour sunlight that starts to predominate as the earth tilts toward autumn. But this year, the approach of fall just makes me sad. It’s coming too soon. I resent having the summer stolen from me by circumstances beyond my control. And I keep thinking of something I once heard an aging movie star — I think it may have been Cary Grant, or maybe it was Michael Caine — say to Johnny Carson about savoring every summer, because he didn’t think he had many left. Not that I expect to kick the bucket anytime soon, but we humans do only get a finite number of summers, don’t we? It’s some kind of tragedy to have to piss one away in a haze of indistinguishable and unfulfilling days spent in the belly of a relentless corporate machine.

But then, I guess we’re not supposed to think that way if we’re lucky enough to have a job in this economy. God, I’m getting tired of those three words, “in this economy.” Seems to me that they’re turning into a convenient excuse for a lot of BS we wouldn’t otherwise be willing to put up with…