All the work I’ve had accepted is quietly waiting to be published. The stories I’ve submitted to magazines are quietly waiting to be read. My novel is quietly waiting to be written. My homebrew is quietly waiting to be bottled. And I’m quietly waiting for Autumn.
I’m not a big fan of summer, and this, right here right now, is the worst. The middle of the summer, heat and humidity, seemingly nothing happening. Even my blog posts and tweets have lessened.
Yesterday my brother said, “I guess this is what they mean by the dog days of summer.” I replied by barking.
I need to get into an October state of mind.