Well, it's here. The death of fun, warmth, outdoor swimming, and walking barefoot outside.
You know, I hear a lot of people talk about fall and how they love it. They say how they just adore the trees changing colors, the pumpkins, the crisp weather, back to school, apple cider, and college football. (College football is okay, but they could totes play in the summer.)
You know what I have to say about those people?
I say they're sick.
What happens in the fall? Everything is on the way careening off the cliff to it's death. Oh, look at those lovely dead flowers. How about that dead grass! Aren't the dead leaves so nice? Good, now I can rake them! Hooray. Yes, please can I have blisters on my hands from using the rake, thankyouverymuch. You get to wear MORE clothes. Put away your happy sandals, switch them out for having to hide your cute pink toenails. But wait, there's more. Sweaters. Because feeling bulky is such a great lumpy feeling underneath your seat belt. Maybe it will be winter soon and we can add in wearing a gigantic parka under the seat belt, too. I can hardly wait.
So here I am today, wearing all black to commemorate the day. It is not the official death of summer, but it is the social death of summer. Kids are posing everywhere with backpacks and creative pinteresty parents are doing something adorable and posting it on facebook (I'm not 100%, but I can imagine). It's so sick I could puke. Goodbye, freedom. Hello, shackles of schedule. Goodbye, barefoot running through the grass.
The only bright side is that without the horrors of the other seasons, you couldn't passionately love that which is summer.
Go sip your pumpkin spice lattes with your school books in your hands and make the best of these horrible 9 months.
Peace, love, and heavy sighing,
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