Sweet migration.

The clock is ticking. There is only one week of summer left, and I’ve decided to take full advantage of the last seven days before the Fall Equinox. That’s right: I’m practically an expert when it comes to the awareness and acknowledgment of equinoxes. Admittedly, I’m not so solid when it comes to solstices, but if you ever want to talk about the upcoming equinox – you know, just sort of throw it into casual conversation like it’s not super weird – I’m your guy. Anyway, I’ll be doing all the usual summer stuff: going to the beach, walking around making jokes about how hot it is to everyone, chasing ice cream trucks as they drive south (now there’s a single panel cartoon), building campfires in the living room fireplace, walking on train tracks and looking for dead bodies, digging for treasure in Mr. Wilson’s petunia patch, and eating s’mores all day, every day. That last one is less a summer tradition than it is a personal vice, and I swear it gets harder and harder to lie to my doctor when he asks me if I abuse marshmallows. Besides my endless to-do-list of summer activities, I’ll also be maintaining that summer philosophy that tends to slow everything down. This means that up until next Friday at 5:05 AM EST, I’ll be getting things done at a snail’s pace. Here’s how a conversation at my (imaginary) office job might unfold…

“Bailey! Where is that report! It was due on my desk three days ago!”

“No worries, Mr. Buttersworth…it’s the summertime!”

So if you need anything, leave a message with my (nonexistent) secretary. Can’t believe we still have seven more days of summer!