October one. The first day of the rest of my life, to be sure. I'd like to make some time for hot chocolate and drawing. I'm going to do a little sewing and a little gardening. I'm going to be thrilled at the fall leaves and cozy in warm sweaters and I'm going to cook and bake right through. I've already started sewing Halloween costumes and shopping for Christmas presents and I wouldn't even dream of being sad that the sun goes down now before we have the curtains drawn or supper cleaned up each night now because that would be ironic and pointless.
It's going to choose it's time and I don't get a say and suddenly I find myself mourning summer all the while I hug myself in these oversize sweaters and hold my mug close.
Dumb, is what it is but completely normal, Joel tells me. He, August and Sam are going to take Ben out for breakfast, which will consist of takeout that they bring back and eat in the gazebo or probably the patio, heaters on, hours spent while they sort out exactly who Ben can rage at and why he needs to get a handle on this because we're all understanding but Jesus Christ.
This is why he got punched in the first place.
And I'm about to punch him again, if not for the fact that we're giving him patience he might not even deserve but does at the same time.
I don't get to sit in on the meetings because I am distracting and too emotional.
Too...emotional.
Huh.
I'd rather be that than not emotional enough.
It's okay though, like I said I have things to do and if you can even believe it this week I am the glue and they are the cracks. Go figure. I just hope they get it together before the first week of November because that's when I might need help.
But then again, I might not.