I’m burned out. My brain is a deep fried bowl of Jello. Maybe it’s because it’s a holiday weekend, and I don’t want to be in the office. I don’t want to be at work. I don’t want to have to think, write, or create new ideas. I don’t want to write this observation.

I want to be back in bed. I want to be on my couch watching tv. I want to be on a golf course making my approach shot. I want to be on a beach somewhere other that here, sipping some frozen fruit drink until my brain freezes from the cold.

I remember when I used to look forward to summer. Three months off with no responsibility. Just a kid. The entire summer ahead of me. Allowed to do everything and anything I wanted.

And now I’m an adult. The summer is over. It’s gone. It didn’t even happen. I’m no more relaxed at the end of the summer than I was at the beginning.

Every year I’m always searching for a way to get back to my childhood.

Every year it gets further and further away.

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