Even Sandy's and Danny's summer ended

My summer is officially over. Tuesday I start back to teaching class, and more importantly, begin my newly disciplined and streamlined schedule in which I finish the first chapter of my diss this term.

I'm very habitual and live by my routines. Alas, malaise, much like I imagine a very addictive drug, is the easiest habit to acquire, and has overgrown my day-to-day this summer like a bad weed. Granted, much of that was spent with my new daughter, so I really don't regret my do-nothingness. Nevertheless, I must thwart summer's complacency with different and better habits.

That means less TV (and football season is starting, too!). Less time online. Less sleeping generally. More time writing. Hopefully not less time with Ada and Michele. Overall, less fun.

For, malaise, contrary to its connations of rottedness and decadence, can also be a tempting wellspring of, maybe not joy, but certainly a deceiving contentment. Even further reason to rekindle my ambition, lest I become permanently mired in a bog I only thought had been a fountainhead.

Here's to summer, and back to life.