Is it really August? It's been a very busy summer. Way too busy, in fact.
I just finished a stint at the hairdresser's for a hair cut. Mammoth event. Only T can turn a 20 minute cut into a two hour marathon. She's good. Very good.
But being there for so long, and being stuck in my hot (it's 92 degrees here) car on the way home, caused me to ponder a few mysteries of the universe. Like,
How did my Aunt Christine, who could barely walk, keep such a clean house?
And equally as deep reflections. Such as,
Just because someone says it, doesn't make it so.
(That one frequently manifests itself after a marathon gossip session/hair cut.)
And then, the first line above begs the plaguing question:
Why can I never find my "off" button? Why is it that I will always take on one more project when clearly I shouldn't. Hmmm . . . .
I have no one to blame but myself for that one. And I do that, too. Regularly and well.
As we sail into autumn, and into the holidays (oooh . . . gut check), perhaps I will learn those heretofore mentioned limits of which I speak.
But I doubt it.
