When she’s not chasing rug monkeys or otherwise running around like a madwoman, Autumn likes to look out at the Rocky Mountains that surround her, and daydream. She wouldn’t live anywhere else (except maybe Tahiti, if half naked serving men are included in the deal. Admit it—you’d trade, too).
Autumn’s always up for a good chat about music, movies, wine, or good books. Or bad books. Or books of any kind (Really. She talks a lot. Almost as much as she reads. Ask her husband). She sucks down java at a scandalous rate to keep her going by day, but in the dead of night you’ll find her hunched over the computer keyboard, writing frantically while alternating between bouts of snickering madly, sniffling aloud, and despairing over her technodorkiness.
Someday she’ll grow up and put her very grown-up education to use.
But not today.