This whole waking-up-the-in-dark thing isn't working out for me. I've been dragging my butt into work routinely fifteen minutes later than I'd like, clutching a cup of coffee like its the only thing anchoring me to this planet.
Having a new cat doesn't help with getting out of bed on time. Cats sleep an alarming portion of their lives and like to encourage you to do the same by curling up next to you when the alarm goes off and being all sweet and fluffy. Their nonverbal argument that you too should get more sleep is very convincing when it's 6:15 a.m. and still pitch black outside.
My new cat is awesome by the way, and it is only by extreme willpower and by my own recognition of your high intellect that I don't continually post pictures of him here and expound upon his awesomeness to everyone I know at length.
It's October. That's a busy time at Casa de Swingbug. The kid's got a birthday, the Crow's anniversary edition is due out, and All Hallows Eve approaches. This in addition to life, both in its standard and surprising variations. And all crammed into ever-shortening days.
Still, the crunch of leaves feels good under my shoes again.