It’s noon, and I've been wondering all morning why I feel so sad and gloomy but of course I know why. It's Saturday of Labor Day weekend, and I hate Labor Day weekend. I hate it.
It's 6 pm now. I’m waiting in line at Nats Park. We're going to the second game of a doubleheader, the first game of which went into extra innings. Nats Park security is now dealing with outgoing and incoming traffic, all at once.
We're in now, seated with our cold drinks. Max Scherzer with his two different colored eyes is still gazing down on us from his billboard, even though the Nats traded Scherzer to Los Angeles weeks ago.
Security screening took longer than usual. I wondered if there had been a bomb threat, but then I noticed that handbags are back at Nats Park. Obviously, I applaud this decision. A few extra minutes in line won't hurt anyone. I only wish I'd gotten the memo in time.
It's a beautiful end of summer holiday weekend Saturday and we drove into DC the long way, through streets teeming with students and tourists and weekend revelers. Trick bicyclists took their young lives in their hands, weaving in between cars on Georgia Avenue where it becomes 7th Street, doing stunts that would be dangerous in a parking lot let alone heavy traffic. One crazy young person stood on his bike---not on the pedals, but on the frame and the seat, sideways like a skateboard, gliding between lanes of traffic before jumping back on the seat and pedaling away. Crazy, but impressive.
*****
That was a fun evening. The Nats held on for a very close win and there were fireworks after the game. We sat next to two Mets fans. There were a lot of Mets fans in the stadium. The score was 4-3 at the top of the 7th inning (it was a 7-inning game) and the Mets fans put on their rally cups, but to no avail. I felt better as we exited the stadium with all of the other happy Nats fans.
But now it’s Sunday of Labor Day weekend. It’s raining and I probably won’t get to go swimming, and I don’t even care.
The thing is that summer ending is like anything else you dread. The dreading part is often worse than the thing that you’re dreading. That’s pretty much always true for the end of summer, as much as I hate it. Once it’s really over and the pool is closed and school is back in session, then I find that fall has certain charms (that do not include pumpkin spice). I like fall clothes, especially jackets. I like wood fires, indoors and out. I like the mist in the morning and the light in the afternoon.
*****
But today, all I can think of is summer and how sad I am to see it go and how much I will miss it, so much that I want to cry. I couldn’t sleep last night for sadness and dread, and it’s finally occurring to me that this might be a bigger mental health crisis than the end of summer usually brings on.
It’s Labor Day now, 11:15 AM. The pool opens in less than an hour but I don’t even want to swim today. I want to sleep. I want to go back to bed and not think about anything. I’m so tired.
Everything seems overwhelming right now. Work, home responsibilities, social obligations, volunteer work--it all seems like too much. I don’t feel equal to anything. I’m still in my pajamas at 11:30 in the morning, and I can’t even think about summoning the energy to get dressed. It’s hard to even type. My hands are exhausted. Maybe I’ll lie down for a while. Maybe I’ll feel better after a little rest.
*****
I did lie down for about five minutes. It felt just ridiculous, lying in bed in my pajamas at almost noon on a public holiday. Not even sad or lazy, just ridiculous. So I got up and got dressed and I did a bunch of meaningless chores that could have waited, but necessity wasn’t the point. Doing something made me feel a little better. By 2:30, I was sitting in a deck chair with my friends, watching the crazy kids splash in the cold water, grabbing and hanging on to their last hours of summer fun. The water was too cold for my friends, but I was determined to swim and I did.
The hot sun soothed my soul and the cold water shocked the lump right out of my throat and I swam about 1,000 meters in water that felt just exactly right after a few laps.
And now it’s Tuesday, and although we still have a few days of meteorological summer left, the real summer is well and truly over. I’m sad again but not like yesterday. The dread really was the worst part. The band-aid is off now and the skin underneath is just a little bit raw. But I’m afraid that end-of-summer dread wasn’t the only reason why I was too sad to get dressed in the morning yesterday. I think the black dog is back for a while.
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