Smells like September around here. New resolutions for the year, shopping bags, the beginning of a nip in the air in the evening, rubbery yet-to-be-worn sneakers piled in the foyer. I'm feeling a hint of excitement about writing projects, web projects, and the promised Scrabble journal. I've even found myself thinking with anticipation about "fall cleaning". You know, it's time to "get my life together".

I'm almost ready.


You need special training for missions like these:

"Go, go, go! Now's your chance!"

I wait on the end of the aisle, as there's no way the cart is going to make it through that mess of parents with lists and whiny little kids. "Red ballpoint pens; I think I see them about halfway down."

He comes back, after far too long. I've added Cheez-its and hot pink erasers to the cart and am eying some gumballs. "This is all they have." He hands me a gaudy golden pen with a squirt gun built in.

"Give me a break."