Okay, I have some issues

I didn't make a big deal about Labor Day weekend. Jen and the boys had graciously gone with me to Splashdown Beach waterpark the previous weekend. That was our final summer hurrah. 

But then on Sunday night I panicked.

I announced to my family that I was going to Hurricane Harbor on Monday afternoon--last day of the season. Anyone want to come with me? Just for a couple of hours?

Crickets.

So I went by myself. I pulled into the parking lot at 4:30, got a spot in the second row (most people were leaving), then waltzed through the entry gates with no line whatsoever. 

"You know the park closes at 6:30, Sir?"

"Yep."

I swam the lazy river. Dunked my hat and put it back on my head. Then I looked up at the big slide that I've always wanted to go on, but no one in my family has ever wanted to.

I made friends with the other 10-year-olds in line, comparing notes on which rollercoasters at Six Flags are awesome and which ones are, like, oh my God, no way.

I rode the giant slide twice. It was awesome both times.

It was now 6:15.

The line at the tube slide was, like, only four people. I out-ran the other kids to it and was at the top by 6:20! How Cool Is That?

Then I rushed back to the giant slide at 6:25, but it was closed already. So I settled for a final lap around the lazy river, smiling at a few tired toddlers while pushing my way past empty inner tubes in an almost empty river.

I took a selfie at the wave pool at 6:31 as the staff was stacking up the beach chairs. End of the season. End of the summer. End of life. 

I have issues.

I don't drink. Don't smoke. Don't do drugs. Don't cheat on my wife or beat my kids.

I just have issues with being an adult. I hate that I waste so much of my life working at a desk, making no difference in the world, sales and marketing, corporate politics, small-minded people, and each day another day closer to death.

While outside the sun is shining. Children are playing. The grass is green in Central Park. There's a toddler in a tutu swimsuit playing in the fountain. Gleeful screams from a tire swing. There are picture books to write, storytimes to lead. Giant waterslides to go down. There is so much life all around us, summertime, golden, beautiful, glorious summertime. If only...if only I could...if only we could...if only....

My patient and understanding family loves me. Thank God for them.