I was worried that I would get seduced by the settled life, comfortable in this nice house with its beer fridge, friendly and companionable cat [I call him Killer Joe, which is far better than his slave name of, God help me, Pussywillow], the ocean and its waves a mere block away, and the house's owner, the mother of some former students whom I have known for twenty years, coming down from her house in Maine for some casual sex from time to time.  Really, this is heavenly; especially since the weather in September has been sublime.

In fact, save for my morning and afternoon sessions in the surf, I've all but given up on exercise.  I haven't been for a run for almost two weeks and the standard and rather old-fashioned calisthenics I used to do have fallen away as well.  I've been eating dessert every night and, last night, when my blood sugar must have dropped, I ate two discs of cookie dough.  Dear Lord....

But the mornings are getting colder, even if the water temperature isn't yet, but I'm wearing the spring wetsuit.  It means that my morning surf session will be surrendered soon as both the air and water will continue to cool.  I can start running in the morning and keep planning on the winter move to Daytona Beach for three months in a studio apartment about two miles from reasonable waves.

Before then, I have to get up to my former town to check my post office box and meet a dental appointment.  I also have to see my editor at the academic press in New York as I've written a couple of book reviews that can easily be placed in the few remaining literary journals.  That's next week, though.  Today, I feel like taking a tremendous nap.

I better get out of here soon.  Oh, look.  Hoda and Kathie Lee are on....