Okay, yes, I'm really quoting T.S. Eliot here. But it really isn't. I love April (no, not just because of my birthday). Today in Phoenix it rained and it was cool and cloudy. It's the kind of weather we never get here. And I'm loving it. It actually feels like spring instead of summer, the way it usually does. Never mind that it's supposed to be 95 degrees later in the week. For now, I'm basking in a spring in the desert, a rarity.
April may be the cruelest month here though because from here on out, it will just get hotter and hotter until we're in the 110s every day for several months. I despise living here; I just want to go somewhere with a temperate climate again, where there are 4 seasons and real precipitation.
I'm simply babbling on here because I'm avoiding doing some real writing on my novella. It has been awhile since I touched it and I keep hearing the voices of the characters, which tells me it's time to go back. But I am still very scattered and don't get to it. I need to make the time and discipline. If I don't do that, how will I ever be able to run a business?
Well, enough blathering on. I will get some writing done tonight.
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