This weekend was my last weekend off until late October and therefore the unofficial end to summer for me. As I type this, I’m sitting on an adirondack chair that was a wedding gift that I’ve been unable to enjoy until now because of the unbearable heat of the summer. Today is the first day it’s been downright pleasant since, I don’t know, March? One of my neighbors has what sounds like a string trio playing at his house. I’m not sure why, but the music suits the weather and the glass of wine I’m drinking — my last bottle of wine leftover from the wedding and the sense that this is my last moment of utter stillness until probably December.

This week wasn’t a good week. It was one of those tough weeks at work where you’re working at an intensity that you were unsure you could achieve and somehow managing to upset the wrong people all the while. I ended up logging 55 hours for five days of work and was utterly defeated by the end of it all. I thought I’d cure myself by having lots of beer and pizza at a friend’s birthday party on Friday night, but I made it about two drinks and two slices in and just wanted to lay down on the floor, so I took the keys and went home to bed.

My demons came out in the middle of the week. They stay pretty well hidden, and usually only rear their heads when I’m having a tough week at work. This week they showed themselves in full force, bringing with them loads of self doubt and making me question my capabilities of handling my job, managing money, nurturing friendships and loving my husband. It wasn’t pretty, and I went to bed Tuesday night having an ugly, ugly cry that managed to wake up (and probably scare) the Modern Love Machine. They took a break Wednesday through Friday, but decided to come back on Saturday, at the first sign of quiet. I spent all day trying to get them in control and get a hold of myself, which I finally seemed to do after devoting 4.5 hours to a showing of Titanic on CMT.

Today I was better and managed to accomplish things that escaped me on Saturday. I gave the bushes in our yard haircuts, I shoveled the weeds, dirt and junk in the gutters outside our house that was causing flash floods every time it rained, I weed-eated some of the yard, I finished and put away the laundry, I tackled a spray-painting job that had been waiting on me for a few weeks and I went to church and got a message of tough love that was a perfect punctuation mark to the week that was.

As I sit here and drink my wine, I hurt for the summer that was. I dare say, despite some pretty amazing summers in my past, this one was the happiest of my life. Sure, getting married didn’t hurt that, but it was the cumulative effect of it all: the celebrations of my bachelorette party and bridal shower, a good work-life balance, a trip to Washington D.C. with some of my dearest friends, the chance to spend more time in Memphis with my family than I’ve had since leaving home, three weeks completely free of work, a week of pampering and time spent in my home town with those I love, an amazing trip to Ireland, a last-minute trip to Chicago and yes — the celebration of my marriage to the MLM and a damn fun party that came with it.

While I relish the memories I’ve created this summer, I hurt even more to think of what’s to come. Fall, despite it’s gorgeous weather and change of pace, kicks off what is always a difficult time at work for me. My free time disappears, and I end up on autopilot. The hours at work pile up and my sanity starts slipping a bit. I know just how much energy the coming months will require, and I shudder to think about it.

I can find comfort in the MLM, though. It’s times like Tuesday night, when he stays awake to comfort me, despite having to wake up at 5:30 a.m. to spend the day dealing with teenagers, that I realize just how much he is my rock. A troubled relationship can make this time of the season so much more difficult, but the MLM manages to keep me from completely losing it. I don’t know how he puts up with my crazy when it shows itself and still can manage to smile at me the next day.

Anyway, I’ve almost finished my glass of wine and the music has stopped, so cheers to the summer that was and a toast to the hope that this fall will somehow, somehow be different than the last four, even though I know it probably won’t be.