Katie Heaney

August is hell. Yes, the calendar is a construct, and no, the weather isn’t necessarily all that different between July 27 and August 3, but each year I find that with the arrival of August 1 comes a crushing ennui that does not lift until September. There are no federal holidays, but nobody anywhere is doing any work. The days start getting shorter, which is just as well, because there’s nothing to do, and what there is to do, I’m sick of. For all but the most spirited of summertime revelers, one’s enthusiasm for beachgoing and BBQ-hosting and picnic-having has mostly dried up. Enough with the forced outdoor merriment already — we all know hibernation is coming, so let’s just get on with it.
Katie Heaney