October.

October is coming.  And I'm not looking forward to it.

I love fall.  I really do.  There's something about the fall air that makes me feel alive, and cozy.  But October is always one of the worst months of the year for me.  Without fail, in October, my life starts to come apart at the seams.  If the year was a metaphor, October would be the shove down the stairs, that "it's all downhill from here moment".  The remaining winter (and sometimes early spring) months are a combination of me falling, spiraling, and hitting the ground.  And laying there, until summer comes, and I pick myself up, brush myself off, and slowing ascend to my happy place.  And I'll spend a few months there, if I'm lucky, before October rolls around, and it all happens again.

I guess all I'm saying today is that I see what's about to happen.  I know I'm about to fall.  And this year, like every other year before, I'm just hoping that I'll be able to pick myself up off the ground when it's over.  This year, like every other year before, I hope there's enough of me left to pick up off the ground.

Jayy.