Member Rara Avis
I confess. It's all my fault.
I discovered a long time ago that time runs interminably when I have nothing to do. Give me a lazy summer afternoon on the back patio, with my sole goal being to relax, and that day will last forever. Give me a cool autumn evening listening to the whisper of the candle's flame because my small-town-electrical is out again, and the night will seem like an eternity in hell. Give me … well, you get the idea.
Needless to say, this summer has not been boring. Like Goldilocks, my porridge always seems too cold or too hot, my bed too small or too big, and I'm still struggling to find "just right." Summer has disappeared, quite simply, because I filled my plate too full again. I NEED more time, so of course, time is running out. I honestly apologize, though in my own defense, I thought boredom equaled slow time and busy equaled fast time ONLY for me. I didn't realize my actions had repercussions throughout the entire world.
It dropped into the 40's last night, with a brisk breeze softly promising an early (and cold) winter. Tomorrow marks the end of summer in this hemisphere.
And I think I'll spend it on the back patio.