Everyone always gets so stinkin’ excited about fall. “Ooooh,” everyone says, “pumpkin lattes, fuzzy socks, and boots, I can’t wait!” But I rail against it every year because you know what pumpkin lattes, fuzzy socks, and boots indicate to me? Cold. That’s right, icy-fingers, numb-butt, cold. And I. Don’t. Want. It. Trust me, you’ll be gagging on pumpkin and lusting for sandals three weeks into winter.
|Fall staples: Pumpkin beer and football.|
The individual qualities of fall, I truly do enjoy: Crisp, cool, sunny days? Yup, delightful. Pumpkin flavored breads, coffees, and beers? Yuuuummmm. Leather boots and tights? Some of my most favorite fashion accessories. Halloween parties and football? Bring ‘em.
It’s more about what fall represents that I detest. The end of summer. The onset of cold, gloomy, winter. Plus, fall is fleeting - fall is a tease. It’s like a two-week delightful experience before all hell breaks loose and ruins your life for five months.
Fall is like ‘that’ guy to me. You know, the one who had all the right qualities on paper, the one who was super good to you, who you liked a whole-whole lot and even felt love for, but just never quite fell completely in love with because something felt wrong - you could just foresee something not quite right in the future…
So, it’s like that, fall. I love you, I’m just not IN love with you.
|I only give up sandals and accept boots when the anticipated high is 40.|
|Self-soothing with pumpkin beer.|