I don’t understand why you people get so excited about Fall. Sure, it has it’s positive qualities: apple picking, using the oven again, pretty colored leaves, Libra birthdays *fist bumps*. But nobody ever talks about it’s dark side – the evil, putrid underbelly of this mistakenly beloved season.
If you ask me (not that you did, but that hasn’t managed to stop me yet), Fall is the seasonal equivalent of a Sunday. Technically, Sunday is still part of the weekend. You can sleep in. You don’t have to go to work. You could enjoy a nice brunch, watch the CBS Morning Show, or sleep off your Saturday debauchery. But by about 2pm, if you’re anything like me (which means you secretly hope Jim Henson is cryogenically frozen somewhere and someone is cloning his brilliant muppet-producing brain) all you can think about is how much you’re dreading Monday and the hellish week ahead of you. Am I right?
Unless your day job is to stare lovingly into Justin Timberlake’s eyes while he records tracks for the new album I like to pretend he’s working on, I’m right. If by any chance that is your day job, call me. I’m all about an internship.
So if we stick with this analogy, you might argue that it’s still only Sunday morning and I’m getting excessively anxious. The thing is, I’m not exactly known for my patience. So it might as well be 2pm (or even later!) and I can feel my ulcer developing already.
Here in the Northeast we’re enjoying Day 4 of buckets of rain. In a few short months that will be buckets of snow. SNOW. (Boo, hiss – we hates it.) And you know what that means. Your favorite Elly, in a haze of fluffy white insanity, will be frantically waving around a letter opener while cackling maniacally and reciting her ABC’s, wearing her snow boots and every single sweater she owns simultaneously.
Winter doesn’t exactly bring out the best in me.
It also doesn’t help that I had to leave Mildred with the vet this morning. She’s almost a little lady kitty now, so it’s time to have her uterus ripped out of her sweet furry belly. It’s possible the lack of adorable is making me a wee bit sullen.
Oh I know, what will cheer us both up – the best moment ever in the history of the Cosby Show. Ta-frickin’dah!