It’s closing time. Not the 1998 Semisonic hit; we’re closing for August at work. If you don’t work in an accounting department, it’s where the acct dept (that’s official lingo) processes and closes all business transactions for the month. If you do work in an accounting department, you’re probably still at work and/or passed out over a highball of your nightcap of choice.

How to describe the sensation… it’s kind of like the first time you realized the meaning behind the lyrics to Genie in a Bottle. At first you’re like, “Yay! This is fun!” Then there’s a sinking feeling, a lot of blinking and staring in disbelief, and then you think, “My God, how did I ever think it was okay to scream this at the top of my lungs at the ripe age of 11?” Or something.

I don’t know where I’m going with this, other than to say I worked an 11.5 hour day today and I am bone weary. I’m about to pass out. But first I thought I’d blog this. This being the winter of our discontent. And by “winter” I mean “extended 9-month Texas summer.”

The wildfires are truly breaking my heart. My prayers go out to everyone effected and to the state. I am many things, people, but above all, I am Texan. And still appalled that I used to sing “Hormones racin’ at the speed of light, but that don’t mean it’s gotta be tonight; baby baby baby” before I even knew what hormones were.

Come on and Let Me Out,

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