S.O.S.

August is killing me. No, I am not being a drama queen here, well maybe just a bit, but it’s so true. It’s so bad I can’t even go in to details. Not people are dying bad, but having no skin on the end of my fingers and rubbing salt on my nerve endings bad. The frosting on the cake? Cass and her friend Taylor have been singing into some sort of microphone that records them and then they play it back over and over and over and over. They have been doing it all, yes ALL, afternoon.
I am thinking, no dreaming, of some sort of fun, sassy cocktail in a tall glass with a small toy garnishing the side. Truly it is the only thing keeping me going today.