Last night there were spectacular thunderstorms over Providence. The peal of thunder that woke me about four ayem, I honestly thought at first that it was an explosion. I got up and closed the office window (always close it when I go to bed, but had forgotten), relieved to see it wasn't raining in.

And so ends my 49th summer.

The lost summer.

Yesterday we made it through the editorial letter for Pink Delicious. I'll be actual line editing when the CEM arrives. Whenever that will be. Too soon. We can fix it in post.

I am ashamed to say that the older I get the less any given fight seems worth fighting. I am succumbing to that impulse to just keep my mouth shut. I actually find myself taking shit off people. Because it is so much easier than bringing another shitstorm down upon myself. And, to tell the truth, I have come to see that very few fights are worth fighting.

Also, I'm gaming too much.

You Bet Your Life It Is,
Aunt Beast