Remember When . . .

photocar

. . . when summer meant a break from responsibilities?  When getting in your car and driving down to the lake to take pictures and dance in the headlights required no advance planning?

Early summers in Bloomington were amazing.  Cool nights, thinning crowds, a sense of lazy urgency.  Even finals week was fun–no class, usually no work, staying out late every night, “studying” at the Blue Bird, spin the bottle in dirty basements.

I can still smell that last summer, but the feeling of it is beginning to fade.  I’ve become a slave to a schedule.  I can’t even imagine the thought of the things I did that summer coming across my mind.  Rebellion has it’s time and place.

Now?  I shower more, I plan more, I sleep more.  I worry more about somet things, and I worry less about others.  But I guess that’s all just a part of “growing up” and “moving on,” something I’m getting more and more used to every day.

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One thought on “Remember When . . .

  1. erin says:

    I love Bloomington in the summer. Summer still somewhat means a break from responsibilities for me, but not so much as it did in the past.

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