The Girl Who Played With Fire

Steph and I sat out at the pool this afternoon for a couple of hours, soaking up some late-summer sun.  The wind was crisp, and it felt like the beginnings of autumn, but we've still got 10 days until its onset.  It's tempting, but I'm just not sure I'm ready for it yet.

The pool isn't the only thing I'm hanging onto.  I'm going to miss the carefree days of summer when they end.  My arsenal of extracurricular exploits is dangerously increasing, especially as fall arrives.  Several nights a week are already committed, and I'm looking at designating one or two more.  In addition, I am still ardent in my commitment to move my "Write Nights" up the list. There's still some good material rolling around in my hard head. And, I have a couple of personal goals that I'm bent on achieving this fall. It's going to require that I master the art of discipline, something that's always seemed to allude me.

At some point, something's gotta give, and that something might just be my sanity.  I may lament about this out loud to make myself feel better, but the pots are still boiling on the stove, and I'm still in the kitchen cooking.  Hopefully, I don't burn the place down.