Remember when summer vacation used to be all about having fun?

I spent my middle school summers at a small all-boys camp hidden away on Lake Winnipesaukee in the New Hampshire mountains, far removed from any semblance of civilization or technology. It was as close to the stereotypical "summer camp" as it could be--I learned how to shoot a rifle, launch a bow and arrow, light a campfire and swim the butterfly.

I slept in rickety log cabins without electricity or plumbing and took the mostly palatable meals in the "mess hall." And when a busload of girls from a neighboring camp would stop in every few weeks for a "social," we would all slow-dance awkwardly to "Stairway" and try to get a kiss to brag about at breakfast the next day. The end of camp always came too soon, and I usually spent the long ride home telling Mom and Dad how awesome the summer had been.

As I moved from middle school to high school, however, I noticed that expectations for my summer plans increased. It started with my summer at the Center for Talented Youth (CTY) at Skidmore College in Saratoga Springs, NY, a summer I still refer to as "nerd camp."

I spent three of my high school summers acting in the local theater company and picking up part-time jobs whenever I had the time. I mowed my neighbor's lawn one summer. I spent another July directing Charlie and the Chocolate Factory at a children's theater camp. And I spent the summer after senior year in a mind-numbing job as a cashier at the local supermarket.

But then I went to Harvard, and it all changed. "What are you doing this summer?" became a frequently-asked-question at Annenberg, alongside "What house are you in?" and "What are you doing tonight?" I met people whose summer plans surpassed anything I plan on doing in my entire life: "Yeah, this summer I'm going to travel to Tanzania and help the new government plan a capitalist economy, while faxing my weekly column in to Newsweek. Then I start my gig with Greenpeace in August and I hope to have saved the humpback whales by September."

For most Harvard students, it seemed that summer was just another time to get a leg up on the competition. Instead of a relaxing break at the beach, most of my fellow students were planning a harried schedule full of commutes, overtimes and abbreviated weekends. And when I began my quest to find a summer job, I pledged to keep my summer as relaxing as possible, especially after a year in the pressure cooker known as Harvard University.

And so far, it has been pretty relaxing.

Both of my jobs are perfect for me. I scored an internship at WFAN, the oldest and largest sports talk radio station in the country (think of it as WEEI, only much better). I get to work in an environment of sports, journalism and entertainment--the perfect combination of my interests. And when I'm not at "The Fan," as we affectionately call WFAN, I work at a Barnes and Noble.

So I've lucked out--I think I've hit the perfect combination of a serious job and a low-pressure (not to mention money-making) one at Barnes and Noble. Although my only day off is Sunday, I usually find ample time to hang out with friends, play a round of golf or even head to a Yankees game.

But it's disappointing to realize that the priorities of summer have shifted. It's not about relaxing anymore--it's about getting stuff done. Sometimes, when I'm standing on a crowded subway during rush hour or helping a particularly obnoxious customer find a book, I find myself longing for the sunny afternoons of New Hampshire, when I could sit on a boat in the middle of a lake without a cloud in the sky or a care in the world. Kevin E. Meyers '02, a Crimson editor, will be living in Winthrop House next year.