Tonight is the last night of August. The air is cooler and, as M pointed out last weekend, the sun falls earlier. I guess I don’t feel autumn is anywhere close until September arrives. I know this doesn’t makes sense, but in my mind a big difference exists between August 31st and September 1st.

This morning I woke just after six, threw on my gear, and drove to the Y. I rode the bike for twenty minutes and lifted weights. After the workout I drove into a coffee shop near work and took in a meeting on a college-specific alumni association that might synergize with some of our recruiting efforts. The sun poured into the windows, but I closed some of the blinds, so we didn’t squint through the meeting. After I arrived at the office I prepped for next week’s leadership courses and caught up on email and the like. I might drive down to the office Sunday morning if the kids hit the church picnic. The church picnic makes me nervous. I don’t like attending, and I don’t think M wants me there either, because I just want to get the hell out of there pretty much as soon as I arrive. I’m not good at sitting on blankets and chatting about bullshit with people I don’t know well. I have promised I’ll start attending church again next week. Maybe I’ll even leave the coatroom and sit in the sanctuary. I’ve been sitting in small dark places in churches since I was seven years old, when ancient and mean-spirited ushers in blue polyester jackets would yell at me about failing to sit in a pew like a normal person. I loved the darkened stairway that led to the unused balcony.

Mary and I considered hitting El Ray for lunch, but I wasn’t in the mood, so I headed north and reached home by one or so. After lunch I worked on that undergrad alumni proposal while the kids were at the beach, then hit the ATM for cash and Papa Murphy’s for pizza. I ate about half of the fucking pizza, but hey, in the past I’d eat 75% of the pizza and finish it off with ice cream, so I’m progressing. I don’t want to starve myself, and I’m slowly improving my habits.

Later the boys played with all their friends in the back field and between the yards. I watched most of the Brewers game, Cleo on my lap, and made a couple of token appearances with the neighbors. M is out there now, drinking. Ten bucks she’s pretty drunk by the time she arrives home.

This has been a good summer. More this weekend. August has also been my most successful journal month since before the dissertation. I wrote about 8,500 words, 15 single-spaced pages, even with a break as the semester started, and I’m on a roll. Off to read some “Consider the Lobster.” Good night.