By MICHELE MILLER, St. Petersburg Times

So who really wants to start thinking about getting back into the school grind when there's still time to enjoy the last dreamy days of summer? Or maybe your summer schedule is as frantic as ever, with work, summer camp, day care and everything else filling your itinerary.

Even so, time's a-wasting.

Sometimes it's the mundane that gets you going when life is shattered with a bolt out of the blue. Maybe it's the sudden death of someone way too young, news of a friend's or family member's terrible illness, a car accident or another kind of trauma you never saw coming. You know you're going to get on the other side of it. Maybe even be the better for it one day. But you're not there yet.

You know it's going to be a good day when you fling open the sash and there's a cool blast of air shivering right through you, bringing the happy notion that things are going to be a little different from here on out.

Or at least for a while.

"Spider!!!!"

The frantic call from the other room comes late, just as I'm drifting into what I had hoped would be a few solid hours of deep slumber.

"Not to be," I figure, as I grope for my glasses and sift through the "literary" pile on my side of the bed to find something sturdy enough to pack a wallop.

The dog days are in full swing and already we're getting "back to school."

High school, that is.

Yes, we're on the cusp of the landmark freshman year for the youngest, who has seemingly leapfrogged into young adulthood and wants to know if she is finally allowed to wear eyeliner and maybe a little mascara, too.

I am so not ready for this.

There's still time for some summer fun. Go ahead and hit the beach. Take that last camping trip. Plan that weekend barbecue. Do some night stargazing.

Then get yourself into the back-to-school groove.

It's been one of those love/hate, on-and-off things, but this latest round has been going on for about nine months, so I'm thinking maybe it's going to last.

Yes, once again I'm back to working out at the gym.

Tenth time's the charm?

Saturday-morning breaks and once again the old man and I are headed out to score a booth at our local breakfast spot. We're off to a good start. There's no line at the door; no need to hover like vultures while waiting for a table to clear. Prompt seating, it turns out, is one of the perks of living in a state where a fair portion of the population ups and leaves once the going gets hot.

Maybe it was because there was too much garlic in the cauliflower casserole I ate for dinner. Perhaps it was the melatonin I took since, as menopause would have it, I'm not sleeping all that well these days. Or maybe it was something I saw on the evening news.

There's no telling where the mind will take you.

One minute I'm tuning into the network news to see history being made with the passage of health-care reform; the next I'm recalling my brother gagging on Tabasco sauce.