Wishing

It's very warm and muggy.  The dogs sleep under the porch where it's cool, and the cats melt into puddles on the chairs in the hottest part of the house.  I'm in the office, thinking about going to bed really early instead of writing but just the idea of that trade keeps my butt in the chair.  

I don't think I'll ever wish that I did less writing.  I may wish, though, that I did more.

Thankfully I don't have to wish.  I can do.