Morale is low and I've decided to deal with it by resigning myself to a rotten summer. August: it's broken.
I'm not saying this is the worst summer ever (that would have to be the summer of '04, when family issues tangled with the loss of a best friend, the dating of a douche, and a job that involved masturbating with Excel spreadsheets).
Still, this summer's not going so well, and I've decided to stop pretending it is. One of my closest friends in the world is known to give her bad moods end times. She's a nicer and smarter person than me, and so her bad moods are usually scheduled to end two, or four, hours later. For me, high morale, enthusiasm, and good cheer will resume Sept. 1.