Mid-Summer

Mid-summer is like mid-life . . . I don't want to believe I'm there.

A is off with her dad today and soon off on a summer vacation with him for 6 days, the longest she'll ever have been away from me. Maybe that's why I'm in such a bad mood. There's also the fact that E's kids are returning from their vacation today . . . never something I look forward to, although he does. It is bound to be like this.

Good news is . . . I had a reading of my new play this week . . . and it went well. I'll now start in on some revisions and hopefully do something with it once I'm satisfied with it. It's been a long way back to playwrighting since my first attempt in my early twenties, but after seeing The Madrid  in New York this spring, I thought I really should take it up again, the haters be damned, so I have, and will and that's it.

This has been a glorious summer. I've loved it. I'm reluctant for it to end. I want life to uncurl like it, a stream of explorations and discoveries. At the same time . . . I've been experiencing stress and doubt . . . but I suppose that's inevitable.

E and I have made it to our paper anniversary. For that, I'm thankful. We're not perfect, but we're okay . . . we're fine . . . we're still here. . . and maybe after another year . . . it will be better. When it is just us two, we are fine, the kids make it complicated, but they are unavoidable.

Seasons change . . . they will too, we'll all go on and maybe, maybe, someday, it will get easier.