Today is a day for turning the corner and pointing my nose toward summer. While the week looks a little shifty in prospect–a doctor’s appointment might modify the terms and conditions of the coming hiatus a little bit, and there’s some chance I might lend my wife a hand on some work this week so she can take on two sizable projects without having to rely on a less accommodating clown–I just squared away the lion’s share of work for one of my classes yesterday, and my remaining classes don’t have final exams that might haunt the stretch from May 4th through 8th.

The bigger fish to fry this summer is Chancers, of course; all is on schedule for me to crowdfund in the middle of June, and I’ll be collaborating with Cmich Press during the crowdfunding campaign as they launch Jason Morningstar’s The Blue Way around the same time. I’ve also got some of the usual seasonal expenses in view: most summers find me playing amateur arborist as I take a look at the damage our trees suffered over the winter, and I normally have to see if we have signs of burly raccoon visitors in the backyard. Despite a bit of late-breaking spending on art for Chancers, I think I’ve budgeted wisely enough to see me through the usual twists and turns.

The trick, I suspect, will be planning for the hinge I’ll need to turn in very late June, which will ideally be devoted to fulfilling Chancers orders and revising the novella that’s currently on standby with a press that expressed interest in the story late last year. The gooder news, predictably, is that I’ve got a pile of projects I’d like to tackle and a couple of sticky deadlines to guide me (and one, merrily, involves my application for a sabbatical in 2027-28); I should also be able to take better stock of my overall health and well-being around then as well, assuming most things go according to plan over the first half of the summer.

These days I’m also trying to take stock in why I’m able to conceptualize the present moments of my life so poorly. I’m not often mired in regrets for the past, happily, but my ability to conceive of the future in alternating bouts of debilitating dread and unbridled optimism continues to rage. I just might need to revise the mantra at the top of my daily agenda, which currently focuses expansively on managing the stuff that falls to me, so that I can pivot my thinking toward one-day-at-time quasi-rationality. If they ever start handing out medals for metacognition I’m sure I’d be a contender, but if I can stack up a few dozen shorter-term wins this coming summer, I think I’ll be in much better shape when the fall rolls back around.