I have the August Blahs. I bet you know what I mean. I had a bowl of oatmeal for breakfast washed down with tea. Then I immediately realized that I was out of gas. Had nothing good to look forward to today. Sultriness is our August forecast and not in a sexy way.

I made myself a cup of coffee and broke off a third of a rich cookie. Um. So good. Then before I knew it, I had broken off two more thirds. Do the math. Can you spell “gone?”? It’s gonna be that kind of day. I did made a discovery of sorts. I only drink coffee for the desserts.

I am at the point in my life where there seems to be no point. I would look for the pencil sharpener but it doesn’t sharpen people. If it did, there would be no telling who would win the election. I can’t believe the Donald could be our leader. The aliens would be saying, “Take me to your leader, the one with the combover.”

But that is not why I am writing this note. Not even close. I am writing it because I am guessing August is not your favorite month either. Okay, maybe you like it if you are a Leo.

Thunder is rumbling and it’s barely after ten in the morning. Did I tell you I have the blahs? Oh, yeah, I remember now. Oh, well, blahs are close to the blues. It’s just that nobody sings the blahs. Maybe I could be the first.

Vicki Woodyard