summer

I have always been a summer girl.
It seems to suit me finer than the other seasons, though spring is a close second.

This is my first summer as a self proclaimed adult, and I've found myself wondering what does summer even mean to me now?

It's not playing till 4 in the morning.
It's no longer sleeping in till noon.
It's not endless hours at the pool.
It's not tan skin, shorts, and tank tops.
It's not vacation. It's not stress free.

It's June, and as childish as it seems, this realization has left me feeling a little sad. Something that has brought me naive happiness for 19 years, is loosing it's luster.

My days are not hard by any means. I will be the first to admit that I am a lucky girl, with a good life.
I guess I'm just having my first lick of a real life adjustment, as silly as it may seem.

I have 3 months to find the magic of summer.
I have a feeling there's more to it than the strict definition I've always limited it to.
I just haven't figured it out yet...

mondays are the worst

I pride myself on my perfect (basically) driving record.
Accident free since that pretty little license fell into my hands.
Until today.

Driving on 1200, which is currently infamous for it's horrendous construction.
The car in front of me slammed on their breaks, I slam on mine but slide on the dirt/rocks exposed by construction and my tires slide.
I barely miss the car in front of me, let out a breath of relief. phew. In the same moment the truck behind me slams into the back of my Jeep. Hard.
I'm dramatic, so imagine it in slow motion, feel free to do the same. My head and general body being thrown forward while the glass from my back window shatters everywhere. literally.
The glass is on the road, as well as in the back, in the middle, and in the front of my car.
Swear words come next. But only in my head.

glass on the floor of my front seat. 

The car behind me is a big white truck. Brand new to the teenager with endless piercings and tattoos. His bumper is looking pretty terrible. Spoken profanity from him. But overall, very nice guy.

Cop shows up. I'm so shaken up I cannot remember my own phone number. I actually called Zane so he could tell me the last 4 numbers. 2309 it turns out, which only sounds vaguely familiar.

We wait. I am late for class.

The officer gives us our case number information and send us on our separate ways.

I need to turn in a big homework assignment, but class is already going by the time I get to UVU, which brings you to the present.
I have to turn in the assignment, and I have to get my absence/tardy excused, so what's left to do other than suck it up and go to Sociology.
Where I currently sit, hoping it doesn't rain, and that my car will still be in the parking lot when I'm done here.
Not to forget, now that the adrenaline has faded, I am now fully aware of my pulsing headache and slight queasy-ness. I'm 90% sure my hands are shaking, and 40% sure I might throw-up.

So naturally I blog.


Happy Monday everybody!