Don’t leave me, summertime: A forced ode to September

Back in May, my friend Emma and I sat on her front porch and did something very important: We wrote out our summer bucket lists.

That, apparently, was more than three months ago. I am unsure how that happened.

Sept. 1 typically leaves me feeling a little melancholy. I love summer, and not just the obvious things that everyone loves about it. Yes, swimming is delightful, as are a post-9 p.m. sunset, boats, and cooking wiener-shaped meats over a fire. But even that oppressive heat that makes you feel faint–I love it. That rush of thick air that hits you when you slide into a car that has been parked in the sun for eight hours–I love it.

So yeah. I’m bummed today.

Ever the optimist, I’m reminding myself why I shouldn’t be bummed. Here are things I have to look forward to over the coming month:

  • September fashion issues! Those impossibly thick magazines are my favorite of the year.
  • So many wonderful to-dos this month. Seriously, September is going to be the month of No Rest: Next weekend, my husband and I are doing a mini weekend getaway in Michigan.
  • The following weekend, a dear friend I haven’t seen in 3 1/2 years is coming to visit.
  • The next weekend, my parents are visiting for my dad’s 60th birthday.
  • Then October will bring with it an extra long weekend family vacation to DC with my in-laws, another visit with a darling friend, and a murder mystery dinner.

I won’t get much sleep, sure. But it should be a good month and a half for making this soul feel loved.

I’ll conclude with my favoritest end-of-summer song.

The summer’s over. This town is closing. They’re waving people out of the ocean. We have the feeling like we were floating. We never noticed where time was going.

I know winter is approaching because …

I feel like we had a delightful extended summer, only to have cold weather come and bitch slap us all in the Midwest — which is all a Midwestern fall really is. Oh sure, there are Pinterest-worthy promises of frolicking in the leaves, days where you can get away with just a sweater, no coat, the smell of something cinnamon cooking in the oven (or is that just a candle?). But really, fall in the Midwest lasts for about a week and a half. And while it’s still clinging to the calendar, those of us who live here know: It’s just winter in a leaf-suit.

I know winter is approaching because:

  • I find myself buying coffee more to warm my hands than to warm my belly.
  • I saw something falling from the sky yesterday that was too big and wet to be rain, but too heavy to be snow.
  • My Facebook feed is starting to be scattered with photos of snow.
  • Target and Kohl’s have told me it’s time to start looking at Christmas trees. (I can’t actually complain about this — Christmas decor makes me smile like a kid on Dec. 24.)
  • I’ve worn a sweater to work three days in a row. (Lest you think I’m reusing the same poor sweater — I have gobs of sweaters. Gobs. I love them, they’re my favorite.)
  • At work, I’ve started to schedule communications to go out regarding fall break and Thanksgiving. True story: Thanksgiving is ONE MONTH from Monday. WHAT???
  • I’ve barely even noticed that my toenail polish needs fixing because my tootsies are in socks and closed-toe shoes all day.

What are the triggers that tell you winter is coming?

Yes, this is two years old, but it’s kind of what this is like.

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