I have hardly noticed it's summer this year.
I mean, it's hot, o.k. And I have had a few nights out -even had the odd flirt and so on. And more than so on, anyway.
I have also had some friends in town for a month, with the logical change of sights, spending time with them, new conversation, actually talking intelligent stuff with them instead of the typical crap.
Yet, I still don't feel I'm in summer. House is a crappy mess, as I hardly realize I've been -gulp!- over a month without Hugo around, and keep postponing the really needed 'spring clean and turn it all inside out'. Have only been to the beach once this year, and only thanks to the aforementioned visitors. No beachy evenings lazying on the sand, after work. No cycling around town -the fact I haven't got a bike might help there.
Not even last week, sitting on a soggy beach deck chair, at the CCCB's cinema sesion, did I feel quite in August.