Every summer, as if it’s new, I feel blue. I am surprised to find myself feeling this way every year. That is not what is supposed to happen. Summer is a time for freedom, relaxation, family. For me summer is isolation, idleness, contemplation, and frustration. I thrive when I am busy and purposeful. I wilt when I am not needed. I feel blue. I have too much time on my hands and prolific thoughts that never cease. I find myself whiling away the days accomplishing little more than breathing in and out all day, binge watching TV, and sitting on my ass thinking I should probably get up an exercise or something. Then I lean back in my chair or on my pillows and continue to breath and think and watch and wait for the school year to start again so I can be productive. I hate the summer blues.