Buzz
Buzz
Two years ago, I wrote about how much I dislike summer and how, despite my grumpiness by August, I repeat the cycle of anticipation and excitement every year. Friends, welcome to the beginning of summer with me.
The burnout (and heat stroke) has not set in yet, so I’m enjoying this time while it lasts. Already, I am making plans with friends into July and feeling anxious about the “usable summer weekends” I have left to do exciting things like “to be determined” and “probably nothing I can’t do in the fall too.” But, it’s started. The buzz of summer. Outdoor seating, concerts and shows, new restaurants to try, long walks in the park, the urge to make the most of this great weather because the sun is shining and we can’t let that go to waste. Underneath this all is the reality that I love my friends. I love this city. I love experiencing as much as I can while I can. The fact that there’s another side to that coin is one I willfully ignore until my body decides I can’t anymore. So far, it’s early days. Let’s do this.
Another harbinger of summer for me, aside from a previously empty calendar becoming full, is my own need to escape. I can’t think of another word for it because it’s not simply an itch to travel or a need to shed anything in particular. No bad relationship or bad job or annoying neighbors to flee from. Not even, really, an existential escape, which is where I imagine many desires to escape begin. I’ve just been antsy.
The thing is, I don’t want to escape anything. I’m not trying to run from something. I’m trying to run to something; I just don’t know what, specifically. When I’m mindlessly scrolling on my phone, it’s less social media doom-scrolling and more hope-scrolling StreetEasy and AirBnB. Where else can I live? Where else can I go, even for just a little while? Some of my findings are perfectly realistic, others not so much. Realism isn’t the point.
Other times, I’m reading about writers’ retreats I don’t have the time or money to attend, or bookmarking publications to send my unfinished work that is nowhere near ready to submit. I keep looking ahead anyway.
I don’t know how to not look ahead.
I’m not great at sitting still even when I’m sitting still. (Apparently there are people without a low hum of energy in their heads all the time. Who knew?) Sometimes that hum is distracting, but other times it feels like inspiration. It’s one of the few parts of having an anxious mind that I’ve come to appreciate. Even, sometimes, enjoy. That hum gets louder this time of year. It wants to move, it wants to convince me we need to run away, it wants to do all the things even when I’d rather not. But without it, I sit still, so I’m happy to tip the scales in its favor for now. (Apparently there are also people who don’t have to make deals with their brain? Weird.)
I also realized this newsletter may be more sporadic throughout the summer. I’m always aiming for monthly, but I’m giving myself permission to spend less time in front of a screen. See you in June, probably, but maybe in July or August. Enjoy your buzzy start to a new summer!
FUN STUFF:
What I'm Reading: Joyful Recollections of Trauma by Paul Scheer
What I'm Watching: Bodkin (Netflix)
What I'm Listening To: Unprecedented Sh!t (album) by Ani DiFranco
What I'm Eating: This Salmon
Sarah Writes Too is a free monthly newsletter featuring short personal essays by me (Sarah LaPolla). The best way to show support is to subscribe, share posts you liked, or throw me a dollar or two for coffee! You can also find me on Bluesky at @sarahlapolla. Thanks for reading!