June rained, July was dry and only occasionally- and pleasantly- hot. Now the cicadas sing and darkness comes a touch earlier. Usually at August's start I'm grimly counting the weeks till Labour Day and muttering 'god give me strength.' The present content can't be entirely ascribed to meds and meditation, though some of it must-- can't see me being so sanguine in other years about stuffed ears, sore throats, iffy hearing, chronic cough, and tendinitis in both elbows.
I think it's because I no longer do co-ordinator shifts. They pay, yes, but it's 6.5 hours of impossible logistics and cranky infants, usually followed by another two hours as an assistant. Now I'm mostly a fourth body and the logistics are no longer impossible and everyone is much happier.
And thanks to the gov't, I still have the same amount of money every month.