I don't really have time to write in the summer. As much as I like words, writing them down just feels too much like summer school. I would much rather be out in the world having fun, enjoying the warm weather and checking out all the leggy dames in booty shorts with gams up to their necks. I also have a tendency to pick up random hobbies that keep me busy all summer. You may remember this from such blog posts as Guilty and My Summer as a Somali Pirate.
This summer's random hobby is... roofing. A buddy of mine owns a roofing company and I've been working for him on the weekends. Probably my worst idea for a summer hobby yet. The extra cash is nice, but somehow I managed to forget about my fear of heights until my first day on the job. At this point, however, I've mostly gotten over that fear and I've been flying up and down ladders all over the North Shore in the last month.
The work is hard and brutally hot at times, but it is also fulfilling in a way that my full-time gig isn't. I feel a real sense of satisfaction when I'm dead tired, covered in sweat and looking at something that I fixed with my own hands. You just don't get that feeling when you're pushing papers for the man. It's the kind of job that makes me feel I deserve a cold beer at quitting time, rather than one that makes me crave a stiff whiskey all day.
Sadly, between my regular job, the part-time gig, and my rampant alcoholism I just haven't really had much time for blogging. Fear not, loyal reader. Eventually, the cold will return and I'll revert back to a hermit-like existence in which I'll have plenty of time to write about what I experienced this summer in future blog posts such as: What it's like to be a Mexican, and, Male Prostitution: Good? Bad? or Giggity? Until then, know that you're in my thoughts even when I'm not thinking about you.