I’ve noticed this pattern— July tries to kill me. Thursday is also not my biggest fan, though I have nothing against it (anymore. I did several years ago, but I don’t have to have that meeting every week anymore, and I’m over it.)

I know that it sounds mental to say that a month has it out for me, but it’s just hard to ignore how excruciatingly hard everything is in July, most years.

This month, by contrast, the neighborhood association has decided to get better about communication, so I’m playing pick up volleyball with the neighbors tonight. V. excited! I love volleyball! And it’s my kind of way to meet people— not awkwardly talking about things in someone’s driveway, but while you’re doing something fun.Then I’m going hiking with a singles group in the area. I’ve found some pretty things on clearance racks to freshen up my look, and things that felt like they took Herculean effort are just going easier for me, now that it’s August. Seriously. I lost a box of checks that I ordered when we moved into the new house and I have looked and looked for those checks. The other day, I looked in the place I wished they were and there they were! Like magic. I have to have checked that spot because it’s where I’ve always kept checks, but ta-da— there they were. I found rabbit ears for the TV that we don’t have hooked up to cable. I found my passport holder for Italy. Not everything that has gone strangely missing has shown right up, but all this stuff I was struggling for, I don’t need to struggle about.

For which I am truly grateful!

So what do you think?

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