Sackville in the Summertime

ENNUI. Always one of my favourite words, which I am only now beginning to grasp the meaning of. Something that is not quite boredom; it is less immediate than boredom. It is a general disillusionment with daily life. A constant feeling of "been there, done that" that can plague the kind of quiet day that we all wish for at other times of the year. Three weeks in a small town in summer provides the perfect image of ennui. Come September I will be thrilled to have any day in which my biggest plans involve walking for a coffee and sitting for two hours in the sun. Yet today, this idea hits me with the sense that a little bit of stress, or speed, or drama is necessary to keep me going, and to keep me interested. As much as Bridge St. will always provide me with coffee and conversation, and that a quiet walk is guaranteed to put me in a good mood, I have begun to avoid my favourite school-year pastimes of relaxation. I am creating for myself the elements of drama and conflict that are such constants for me in situations where they are not present. The part of me that remembers Saskatoon and the exaggerated importance of the smallest events has spoiled me for complicated experiences. I realize (with the most logical and reasonable part of me... which does not always receive the most attention) that I should be perfectly content with this month of respite from stress and action. I should treasure spending my days working and writing and sitting before I have to deal with all of the other people and activities who will eventually and undoubtedly demand my time. Yet I also feel like I am missing out. I am missing out on the kind of social contact that keeps me sane throughout most of the year. But for now I will continue to remind myself that slow can be good, that I don't always need drama to survive, and come November I will be glad for even three hours spent as I have spent this week, let alone an entire day.