either it’s a mighty case of writer’s block orrrrrrr it’s STILL effin august
every morning I wake up and look at my watch and every morning I am waiting for the digital face to reveal something more than an 8 where the month is listed. No more August, please dear God, let August end. The nine, damnit, give me the nine. It’s been over a hundred and one degrees for longer than I can remember and if the days get any longer or hotter or, wait, did I mention longer? Yes, yes I did, but the profound, everlasting, suffocating heat of this Texas August is making me delirious and unable to remember what I said three words ago.
I think about writing on the blog, really I do, but then I sit down with my laptop and the bottom of it is hot on the tops of my thighs and so instead of allowing more heat into my life, I close the laptop and go sit in front of the air conditioning vent until the baby wakes up from his nap and then I sit with the baby and tell him elaborate stories that involve us living in Montana, or maybe Antarctica, and never sweating again in our lives. Ever. Never.
Maybe tomorrow there will be a 9 on my watch. I’m thinking positive, because eventually this shit has to break. Do you hear that August? Eventually. You. Have. To. End.