I’ll admit it, July; we’ve never had the best of relationships. You are in the middle of the summer and I am not a fan of hot weather. That’s why I like the temperate Pacific Northwest. But hey, Son of Caesar, why do I feel like you are conspiring against me? I don’t mind doing work, but it seems awfully strange that it’s all coming due in the same damn month. Most of it in the same week even. So what gives, July? Do you have it out for me?