Every summer, I make one. My summer bucket list usually includes a mix of ambitious plans and easy wins. I’ve learned “paddleboard more” isn’t specific enough and “have a perfect family holiday at a warm lake” is too much so. Still, by August, a few items are checked off, while others linger (sometimes for years), feeling accusatory. That’s the problem with aiming for the “best summer ever.” It sounds carefree, but it isn’t.
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