My friend Paul is a very wise man. Last week, as he drove O. and me home after a morning of catching up at the house / workshop / gallery / former school building in which he dwells, he said:

What is the deal with people and coffee? No, let’s try that again. What is the deal with people and dish water? Coffee¹ these days. Is. Disgusting.

It was indeed great while it lasted, until about three weeks ago. Churning out little posts, coming up with fun tidbits, roaming the streets of Eindhoven with a little noteback. Getting feedback. Compliments. Your mother’s cousins’ daughters’ coworkers are reading your blog. And then university life begins. And there is time for nothing.

I remember it well, my transition from elementary to high school. Gone were the old days of person teaching every subject in a single classroom. Everything would be new again. New subjects, new people, teachers, supplies. It was the supplies that kept me up at night. Books were to be given the right cover, of course there would have to be a new pencil case. New notebooks. A diary.

I’m not one to dwell on the negative, but let me just come right out and say it: I fucking hate summertime.