While complaining to a friend recently that I had no free time, she reminded me of a very old song — the title sounds familiar though the tune doesn’t — called “Those Lazy Hazy Crazy Days of Summer.” I don’t think there is such a thing as a lazy day anymore, summer or winter. Hazy days, occasionally. The day after joining friends for “Happy Hour” this week, my memories of that experience were very hazy, though the word doesn’t characterize most of my days this month. Crazy, however, fits July perfectly.

Lunches out, a wedding, a birthday party, dinners out, more lunches out, more dinners, multiple “Happy Hours,” volunteer jobs, out-of-town visitors, and a four-day conference. I’ve even seen a friend from elementary school and a college roommate this month. I told my husband that based on the number of social events, July and December are remarkably similar.

We cancelled a trip scheduled for today to dine with friends in another city. We still want to see the friends, but what a relief to have a day at home to work on our own things-to-do-lists and not have to socialize.

Even if I feel too busy, warm summer days are a premium in this area and cannot be taken for granted, nor can friends.

I have read one novel this month, when usually I’d have completed four by now. Nothing is more satisfying than getting lost in a good book, ignoring everything but mealtimes, my husband and the cat. I opened a new library book yesterday and realized I’d read it. Following that I opened a book I bought. After 30 pages, I knew it would not be a favorite. Maybe my issue is not so much about too many social engagements as it is about not having a good book to read.