August in Texas is HOT and all signs of organization slip away willy-nilly. The one thing I seem to do well is float in the pool. ( I do go to work and type accurately, but that's work, not play). Oh, I've been writing some and sending out some and getting rejected some, but it's not done in a pattern with purpose. Critiques with friends have gone by the wayside. My sense of publication urgency is sitting seaside at Ocean City, NJ on hiatus or chowing down on a Pudge's cheesesteak, or perhaps staring at the Gateway Arch in St.Louis at yet another angle.
I enjoy the August slip'n slide, the smell of chlorine, the slice of watermelon. However, my brain is starting to compartmentalize chores and tasks and goals for September. It's beginning to round up the balls, prepare to segue from summer slapdash into September short story success.
That still doesn't mean I'm any good at dodge ball.