No one could have said it better. The dog days of summer, indeed, are depicted in this encomium to August from EYEWEAR:
"The semi-mythic month of August has arrived. April may be cruel, but August is vast, vacant, quiet, deserted, even slightly dusty. August is an empty Paris of the mind, where one can wander shuttered streets at noon, and meet no one. August is when parliament is out, and the fish are jumping onto the banks of the river. August is when you realise you have wasted your life, then turn over in the hammock for another forty winks…"
Head on over to read the piece in full; I hope it will make you smile as much as it did me.
(Thanks, Sherry, for the link.)