Dear August,

So. You're back. And in case you were wondering, I still have lingering anger towards you and your 31 days.

Oh sure, the beginning was usually a time of laughter and merriment. Swim parties, vacations, lemonade sales. The fun poured down my face in sweat and left burns and new freckles on my shoulders. Remember those good ole days of yore?

Then came mid-month. The pool parties died down, vacations ended, lemonade demand dwindled. A melancholy- nay, a feeling of dread- began to creep into my life. Why, thought I, Doth this feeling of foreboding disturb my peaceful slumbers? My answer came only a few days later. I remember it well: I spent all day with the twins poking a maybe-dead turtle on the other side of the backyard fence. My legs were burned after (unsuccessfully) attempting to 1)wake it up, and 2) knock it into our yard. Exhausted, I spent the evening slathered in aloe vera gel watching TGIF - and that's when I saw it. The reason I'd been anticipating something awful, like death by guillotine or Keith Richards singing me lullabies, coming my way. It was . . . the dreaded Back To School Sales commercials!

It was no longer than two blinks and a gag and I was back at The Stalag. Another nine months of government sanctioned torture, complete with The Gestapo (staff) and Hitler Youth (classmates). All through my childhood and into my young adult life. That, August, is why I've always loathed you.

Now things are different. I've graduated from The Stalag and found myself wandering through East Berlin, as it were. So actually it's not that different.

While ocean breezes keep the sun from melting my deodorant and makeup off every five seconds, and the end of the month ushers in football season instead of The End Of My Life, I find it hard to let go of old feelings and really enjoy your End Of Summer offerings. I might apologize if I thought this hurt you more than it hurts me.

As a means of therapy for my long-standing grudge, I will Party In The USA everyday this month. Nothing says "Over It" like karaoke, Scrabble tournaments and an open bar of diet soft drinks. Don't you agree?

Sincerely,
T (Pain)