After so many summers breezing by without more than a few precious memories to remember it, I’ve decided that this year, summer will be different. This year’s summer, I vowed, was going to be a productive one.
Productive, why, you ask?
This actually goes back to a trait [link coming later] that I personally dislike; one that I am guilty of many times before I remember to correct myself.
Sure, I’m a fan of lazy days as much as anyone is. Actually, I like to say I specialize in lazy days. However, making your summer a productive one doesn’t actually take that much time. I’m still able to come home every day and have ample me-time.
However, if you think about it, how many times do you look back on your life and recall fondly those lazy Sunday days? For me, I definitely know that I hardly recall them as specifics. Sure, I’m aware that those days are enjoyable, but not to the extent that I’m going to be writing about them 50 years in my future.
Productive, how, you ask?
Well, I started off by making a list. If you know me well enough, you’ll know that I have a borderline-unhealthy relationship with lists. I love them. If there was a job making lists, I’d be Steve Jobs of that career.
And before long, that list was about 50 activities long and counting. Here are just a few of them:
- obtain motorcycle permit
- visit various friends in various places (this is more specific on my list)
- lose 20 pounds (losing weight will forever be ingrained on all of my lists)
- get tragus pierced
- watch all summer movies that I want to see
- read at least 20 books on my to-read list
- get hair dyed and cut
- go canoeing in the local river
- visit each ethnic neighborhood in Chicago
- House of Blues
- etc, etc…
Despite whether or not I will be able to accomplish all of these things—actually, it would be rather pathetic if I didn’t because many of them are mundane—it ultimately came down to doing something momentous every day.
Many of my summers, I believe, have passed quickly because I lost track of time. You know, that feeling that leaves you wondering where the time went and trying to remember how you spent it? I hate that feeling. To me, it signifies that I’m making it a habit, and in no time, life will soon start to slip as well.
So I’m choosing to do something about it.
I want to be able to look back at this summer and be unable to count, yet remember, each and every memory that I make this summer.