A floaty kind of weekend. Which is to be expected, since I finished by book this week. Kind of the post-exhaustion daze, I guess. I’m really proud of how I finished this book, though, because it wasn’t a mad scramble to the end. That last day of writing was just kind of a normal writing day. I wrote 18 pages to finish the book. Not, like, forty. I’m really proud of that. And tomorrow, I get right back to it: I’m plotting out the next one. I don’t think I’ll have it finished by the end of the year, but I might. It’s meant to be a shorter one. And if my cowriter goes for it, a reader magnet, meaning we can build a newsletter with it. We’ll see. But, I’d aim for it to be a shorter book…like, 50K words or so.
Niners are really good this year. They haven’t been super duper dominant yet, like they haven’t crushed somebody, but they’d been clearly a cut above everyone they’ve played so far. Like, nobody has threatened them with a loss. And that’s a little wild. This is a team that could win the Super Bowl. I remember in 2019, that team was a surprise just how good they were. This team is not a surprise. And that’s…different. It’s made watching them different. I don’t really know how to say it.
GBBO is back. Watched that with Bear for dinner. I want to try some baking this fall and winter.
Oh, and that’s the other thing: it felt like FALL today. It was cool. Sun is noticeably lower in the sky. It’s not getting dark early yet, but I know that’s around the corner. I still am bracing for one last heat wave before the actual cold comes, but it just hit me today that summer is over. I felt it, I mean. That’s always a little bit sad for me. I like summer in LA. It’s so vibrant and alive, even though it’s hot. And I guess I also get a little anxious about the end of the year coming, and that feeling like I haven’t done enough. But I have. I’ve done everything I could do.
I didn’t know Coco when I started this blog. I hadn’t met her yet. She hadn’t yet come into our lives—she wouldn’t until right close to when this blog turned one. And now, at ten years, this milestone, too, will pass without her. She still feels like she’s just in the other room, or right around the corner, or even just a turn of the head away. I can reach over and give her a snuggle, smell her, listen to her breathing. She still feels so close.
Lots of italics tonight.
October, I welcome you. 90 days to the end of the year. I can still get some stuff done, including things other than just work and writing. Some fun stuff. Like Stray. I’ve almost finished the game, I think. Maybe Horizon: Zero Dawn next? Certainly the new Zelda and the side scrolling Mario that’s coming. Some basketball and football watching. Oh: the A’s ended their season today. 112 losses on the season. Certainly the worst I’ve ever seen…but what I was thinking about today was that I didn’t see it; I didn’t watch a single game this year. The announcement they were leaving Oakland ruined that, and the absolute disgrace of a team we fielded, too. The worst team in baseball. With—by far—the worst owner in all of professional sports. Fucked us over for almost 20 years now. Strong language, I know, but it’s true. It’s all so obvious, now, in retrospect, what a joke this organization has been. And that none of it was worth it. I’ll be cancelling my MLB.tv subscription this year for the first time in…man, I think it’s almost been fifteen years. I’m not going to use it. I don’t want to watch the A’s. Wild.
Ooof. Negative thing to end on…but I suppose it’s just the honest truth. Feeling much more melancholy than just down or angry, though. And not even melancholy in a bad way, really, just…slow. Quiet. Introspective. That kind. Ponderous.
Night night.