Summers always start out the same: the heavy weight of scholastic pressure is lifted, the weather becomes warm and breezy, and the city bursts with life.  For a brief window, we believe this summer will see the realization of everything we wanted to do all year. This summer we will hit the gym, read more for pleasure, and finally relax.  At the beginning of June, we dub this summer, ‘Summer of Hope!’ and we find opportunities to enact the changes we hope to adopt.

And there are two perfect roads upon which we test drive our summer model-selves: at summer jobs and in summer romances.

We show up on the first day of work, dressed as the best versions of ourselves, and we prepare to face any assignment thrown our way.  Our first project is always carried out with a thirsty fervor and enthusiasm, and for that week, we believe we can carry on with this zeal forever.  As our summer selves, we are confident our passion and hard work will bleed into tomorrow, and it is inevitable we will thrive professionally.

Maybe one night, at a happy hour after work, we meet an attractive acquaintance.  With a summer ale in our systems and the sweet smell of sweat on the streets, our bodies ooze with sexuality and licentious freedom.  We feel optimistic about the future of these relationships, because this lover makes us feel freer than anyone we’ve ever known.  As our summer selves, we are confident our feelings of amour will bleed into tomorrow, and it is inevitable we will thrive romantically.

But soon it’s July: the weather grows sticky and the smell of the morning subway ride reminds us of the tedium of work.  Despite our best efforts, it seems impossible to muster the enthusiasm we displayed in June.  We scavenge for things to do around the office. Soon Facebook and Gmail replace Lexis and WestLaw, and we wonder about the future.  We worry about the imminence of Fall Recruitment and the impending rejection we assume to face from employers, but even worse, we wonder if this is what we want for our lives at all.  As we sit in our cubicles and avoid eye contact with co-workers, we find ourselves wondering: do we want to carry our Summer selves into the Fall?

We find no answers in our Summer romances, and realize we can’t talk about anything of value with these people. What was once laid back and freeing suddenly feels cheap, and we beat around the bush and avoid the truth but it remains lingering: our sexual freedom is the only thing holding this romance together.  We resolve, as August rounds the corner, that we cannot- no, we will not- carry this burden into tomorrow.  This version of ourselves is unsustainable.  We long for the structured intelligence we contained in May and though we were sleepless, at least we weren’t afraid to wonder what we were.

September comes too soon but also not soon enough. This ‘Summer of Hope’ has been unremittingly disappointing, but perhaps yet again, as each Summer confirms, we have set our sights too high.

Summer cannot mend a year of rescinded self-improvement, nor can it contain a year’s worth of missed culture.  Instead, Summer serves to teach us how to better live our lives during the rest of our year.  We work unyieldingly hard in school and suffer many sleepless nights, but Summer reminds us that we are happier and healthier when we allocate time for relaxation.  All year long, we bolster our resumes and attempt to network, but Summer reminds us it’s okay if we haven’t got it all figured out.  And finally, though we may delay or push off for too-long, Summer carries with it a quiet reminder of unanswered questions lingering in our midst.

We face a new semester, and yet again we find ourselves waiting for next Summer.  But perhaps, for one moment, before we return to our complicated status as students of law, we allow ourselves to reflect on the Summer, to close our eyes and stand outside, to feel the warm weather soon departing against our bare skin; we open our eyes and turn toward the building, and we enthusiastically enter another Fall of our lives.

Got relationship questions for Sara? Email her at dating_columnist@cardozojurist.com.