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August used to be a sad month for me. As the days went on, the thought of school starting weighed heavily upon my young frame. That, coupled with the oppressive heat and humidity of my native Washington, D.C., only seemed to heighten the misery.

August in sub-Saharan Los Angeles is one of the great and awful tests of one's endurance, sanity and stamina.

I need to eat a lot; otherwise, I feel faint. I get in the worst moods if I don't eat.

I'm so thankful for that struggling period. That time is really great where you have no idea what's going to happen.

Every August, I go away for four weeks to a place in Michigan. I work in the mornings, spend the month in shorts and flip-flops. It gives me time to think like an investor and come back in September for some heavy planning.

In many ways, September feels like the busiest time of the year: The kids go back to school, work piles up after the summer's dog days, and Thanksgiving is suddenly upon us.

August brings into sharp focus and a furious boil everything I've been listening to in the late spring and summer.

I get miserable if I don't eat.

Uh, I just had an operation last March which was rather serious and I'm recuperating now. I'm on a very bland diet. But, uh, I'm lucky, I was just lucky, that's all.

It's an awful feeling, being hungry.