It was a cold and rainy night...

...as I pulled my hoodie up around my neck and popped open my "shoe" umbrella which has seen better days but has been put to good use since I moved to Seattle. I left the gym in a rain that, to me, is declaring the end of summer. My new workout with my trainer is declaring the end of summer too - as she intend on punishing me for taking June and July off - for outdoor skates in the park and other fun things.

I decided this week, after I pay for my gazillion car repairs (or at least two of them) that I would sign up for a writing class. I was intent on signing up for burlesque but that was going to cost me a fortune ($100 more than last year when I first looked into it.) And a writing class, like going to the gym, will work out my writing muscle and get its flabby self back into shape. I'm going to take a class at the Hugo House - which I've been to a couple of times before. I'm sure it's going to be fun. It will probably be like some of the classes I've taught before but it will give me an excuse to write and real deadlines, as opposed to the artificial ones in my head. I'm looking forward to the structure. And it will be on a Tuesday. I'm looking forward to it.

I don't want to be looking at myself when I'm 60 and wondering "why didn't I go to the gym all these years..." Why had I stopped writing?