I’ll be spending my fall, in short, doing even more work. 

That is to say, about how, despite having spent all of August away in Nova Scotia, the province of my birth, I passed the duration of it performing three different forms of work in what made for a month’s worth of gruelling 18-hour-days. 

The year 2016 knocked the wind out of a lot of people’s sails. 

Politically, it showed considerable regression in the progress of equality and human rights. 

A seemingly inordinate number of notable figures and celebrities passed away, many surprisingly young, which suggests we haven’t come as far in disease prevention, mental health treatment, and drug harm reduction as we may have thought. 

It’s that time of year again. 

Summer is the best season there is.  This may be my personal opinion on the matter, but I do believe there’s some degree of universal truth to it as well: the weather is warm, the days are long, people are friendlier and happier, and the clothing is less encumbering. 

No, it doesn’t involve an awesome vacation, but more on that in a bit. 

I’m having a “working summer” this year.  This isn’t unlike how I often have “working weekends”, during which I get caught up on all the errands, chores, and other adult-life necessaries I didn’t do during the week because I was busy writing. 

Full-time jobs are hell on both writing time and fun, relaxing weekend time, though I guess we all need to suffer a bit for our art.