It’s now September. You know, FALL. At least, that’s what they’re telling me. I’ve seen this picture all over social media and blogs this week:
You can pin that to your “I Love Fall” board.
So what’s a girl to do? I love fall. Loooooove. (I love it like a girl who no longer lives in the Pacific Northwest and has a super romantic idea of What Fall Is Like, please see above “Hello September” photo for evidence) I want colored leaves. I want cloudy mornings. I want layers. I have seasonal jealousy, that’s what. All you people with your fall-flavored coffee. When it’s 85 out, a pumpkin spice latte just seems wrong. Don’t give me a talk about “transitioning” my wardrobe into fall because it’s just still summer here (and probably will be until the end of October), so please put those scarves and boots somewhere my eyes won’t see. Every night we get into bed, we push the covers off because it’s boiling in our upstairs, and then I check the five day forecast. “Don’t check it!” Tovi warns me. “It’s not getting any cooler.” Then I check the ten day forecast just to make my disappointment even worse. It’s getting hotter. Ten days from now will be hotter than today. Ten days from now I’ll be so desperate for fall that you’ll be able to find me in the minivan with the AC cranked full blast just so I can wear a scarf for a few minutes. Hello, September. Hello, desperation.