Summertime blahs

When the aggregate readership of three blogs numbers in single digits, one critical remark sticks out like a sore thumb and two constitute a groundswell of negativity. This afternoon, I got an e-mail from one of my longtime buddies commenting on my relative lack of productivity in recent weeks, and implying that like an old mineshaft, I might be petering out.

As I mentioned in the preceding post, I got distracted at the beginning of May by my other interest; I have two. Blog maintenance is the focal point of my miserable existence, which is why there are three of them rather than one. The original blog, Hot Water Sandwich, is essentially dedicated to interminable reflections on the events of my life, starting with earliest memories. Fertilizer Storage is where I ventilate in short bursts about whatever's pissing me off at any given moment. The blog you're currently looking at, Pensights, is the middle stack where everything else goes.

Since I've been spending so much time on my other interest, I haven't been musing on the events of my life or keeping up with current events closely enough to get pissed off, hence the scarcity of new stuff.

Summertime has arrived, with the temperature this afternoon in the low 90s. I've hated summer ever since I was old enough to have summer jobs. When I was a teenager, my summer work was outdoors in cotton fields, slaving under the hot sun for 76 cents an hour or some similarly ridiculous wage. Once I got past junior high, summer stopped being a vacation time and started being a time when I worked real hard in the damned Texas heat. For years, I was grossly overweight which made the heat almost unbearable, plus I was psychologically disturbed by the whole concept of daylight saving time (as noted in an earlier post). The bottom line: Fuck summer.

A few years ago, for health reasons, I lost nearly 100 pounds. I started eating more wisely and trying to get a little exercise every day. There are many good things about being 100 pounds lighter, but one of the best is that it's easier to cope with the Texas summer heat.

My normal exercise consists of walking between 2.5 and 4.5 miles every day, at a speed of four miles per hour. Typically, I walk a measured three-mile route in 45 minutes (faster if the weather's nice). Every year when summer breaks down the door and comes charging in like it owns the joint, I experience an adjustment period; the three miles start taking 46 or 47 minutes instead. After a few days, I get accustomed to the heat and motivate as usual, but I still finish drenched in sweat. Oh well, it'll just help me appreciate the cooler afternoons in October.