To say that I have been somewhat overworked lately is much like pointing out that a dude who just toppled into the tiger pit at the zoo may need assistance. It’s pretty obvious that I’ve been overworked, to the point where I started to question whether I really wanted to keep pouring time and effort into this writing thing, and the futility therein. I usually get like this between the end of September to the beginning of January, what because winter and Christmas are basically horrendous and will be the first things to be banned as soon as I am carried into political office on a wave of ponies.
My descent into insanity usually begins with the gigantic county fair, which kicks off in the last week of September and consumes most of my time for most of the month. The fair is unlike any of the little BS “community days” that used to be held back home in the suburbs of Pittsburgh. It’s a celebration of country life, and is also probably where two thirds of the teenage pregnancies in the county come from. I’ll keep you posted on those numbers in nine months.