In the city, it's easy to forget that season changes are about more than the temperature. Driving across Indiana and Ohio, spending the weekend at my parents' house in the country, I remembered that summer is about cornfields, tiger lilies, wheat fields, wild flowers. Summer is driving with the windows open and kind of loving the smell of manure, even though it takes your breath away, because it reminds you of being a kid and going to the fair. Trying to count how many shades of green are in view. Watching leaves turn upside down and silver just before it rains. Summer isn't just heat and humidity, box fans, searching for shade or A/C. It's about the real world--the natural world. I needed to remember that.
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My family, especially my mom, is going through a stressful time. I wish I could stay with her longer and take some of the burden off.
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I don't think I'm going to send out my manuscript today. Two (maybe three) reasons. 1) I don't want to send it out just because I told myself I would, when I know it's not quite ready, 2) I'm moving on Monday and packing seems a lot more important, and sort of 3) I'm procrastinating.
Yes, choosing to miss a self-imposed deadline to do other things is technically procrastinating. And maybe if I just sat down with it for a couple of hours, it would feel ready, but I don't want to force it. Still, I swear it will go out this summer. I just need to be more on top of it when the next set of deadlines comes up.
something wicked
3 hours ago
