Chapter Eight - Walking Toward Summer

As Spring came to an end, Steve Samuels found himself in virtually the same conundrum that occurred in the waning days of any semester at Gomer Community College. He was a renaissance man, of course, and he knew that a one track mind breeds a very boring person. His nature would not allow for such personal failures, and whether consciously or not, by April, he was done. A whirlwind of effort carried him through the rough days of coming back to Gomer after Christmas break; coffee and snickers bars fueled the late-night writing sessions to prepare him for up to four lectures a week, and his pizza and beer habit got him through the stressful, quiet hours that others call Saturdays and Sundays. It was not a perfect plan, but it was a plan.
Steve had been a bit worn out by the events of the last couple years. Although he recognized how good his life truly was, he did catch himself writing down telephone numbers of work-at-home schemes from midnight informercials. Was his mind truly where it should be? He felt it was. Of course, several others would from time to time disagree. He cared of such thoughts, specifically when those hosting such thoughts fell into several categories – those who signed his paychecks, those who occupied his mind, and those who might, in the future, sign his paychecks and occupy his mind.
Such was the balance Steve was encountering at this very moment. It was nearing April 1st, putting Career Day in the memories of two full weeks ago. May 1st was a month out, and that dreadful day was only one week away from final exams, and that horrid day was only three days away from the due date for grades. Those students think they’ve got it bad, well, they don’t have anything on Steven Samuels. His custom was to – unintentionally – work like hell for a few months, then get bored of it, wing it for a month, and then spend several extremely severe days trying to piece together how to survive, into the heaven know as….Summer Break.
Such plans tended to always work, because that’s how things are supposed to be! And, in any other year, in any other season, so it would go. But man, he could not stop thinking about Jenna Kasner. They had called each other after Career Day, and had corresponded via email in the interim – maybe three or four times – but that wasn’t enough. He had already made plans as to how they would come closer into each others’ spheres of influence.
Steve decided to attend to his most immediate need first, clearing the deck at work before putting on his very best to Jenna. He set himself a timetable – by this time next week- next Thursday – he would be ready to ask Jenna Kasner out for coffee. He would do so with a clear conscience, a desk with nothing on it, and little to nothing on his to do list.
To prepare for his hard work, he let Zephyr out, loosened his tie, took his coat off, took his tie off, turned on his stereo, placed The Ramones’ Rocket to Russia onto his turntable, and poured himself an ice cold beer. Oh yes. His mind was fully engaged. Settling into an easy chair with a small stack of his students’ term papers to read, and a brand new red pen, Steve assumed the position of ambitious academic.
Four hours later, Zephyr – usually a good, controllable dog – used the only tool at his disposal to get Steve’s attention – and he howled, to be let back in. Although genuinely bright, and friendly, his cognitive abilities were limited, and he was not bothered by the first several hours of his endeavors outdoors; even a smart, good dog is a dog, and dogs are meant to relax in the fresh air. But as night fell, it got cold. His new haircut offered him few of the protections reserved for the nature of winter fur, and he wanted in. Where the hell was Steve?
The answer was simple – the Genius had passed out in his La-Z-Boy. Perhaps these efforts would begin…tomorrow.