The end of summer

Tonight I finally admitted defeat, climbed out onto the fire escape and took the aircon out of our window. One less pimple on the acned faced of Williamsburg. One more admission that the summer is over.

I've enjoyed this summer, at home, with the dog - going for long walks, watching people in the park, realizing that whilst I used to spend hours in an office with no outside views of the world others were out living life. Feeling the sun on their faces. The grass under their feet. No doubt my face will pay the price of too many hours outside but a few lines and patches of leather are a small price to pay for a summer that was glorious and unexpected.

Had I died, as well I might, back in the bleak days of February I would never experienced the feeling of work punctuating life - only of life occasionally being allowed to peak around the long shadow that work cast over my every thought.

Jude got it far earlier than I did. With Africa and her PhD. Blur were right - modern life is rubbish. And the secret is that you can opt out. Choose not to be the monkey. Choose to define yourself by what you do - not who you work for. I think that I might, just might, do exactly that and pretty soon