The month of September was a rough one for me, cognitavely speaking. Three of my four parents have birthdays in September, and I managed to forget every freakin’ one of them. To each of them–Michael (9/16), Mom (9/21) and Dad (9/28)–I offer my sincerest apologies. I don’t know what I was thinking, except that it was about something other than your birthdays.

Also, and perhaps more importantly, Happy Birthday, you guys.

Not that any of them read, or are even aware of, this blog. I should probably make some phone calls.

So I’m feeling a little guilty about that. On top of that, my good friend Clayton announced that he is moving to Philadelphia. I’m thrilled for him, of course. He’s starting a new job out there that sounds, for lack of a better description, totally sweet. He has grand plans for a kind of complete life-overhaul that I find inspiring. I can’t help but notice that I am still in the job I’ve been complaining about since I started this blog, and agents and publishers are not exactly pounding at my door. I think I need to get a little of that Clayton mojo, and get off my ass and start, you know, working, or something.

Then again, right now I am at work, but does it look like I’m actually working?