When I walked outside this morning it was all I could do not to call in sick. The wind was blowing in gusts through the trees and I was conscious of my bare feet for the first time in months. All I wanted to do was make some coffee, grab my novel that I started at the beach this weekend, and sit out on my back deck with the dogs wrapped in a blanket.
I didn’t spend anytime in the mountains this summer (since my dad sold our childhood vacation home this winter, I’m still a little bitter). The only somewhat cool weather I experienced all summer was in new york, and then it wasn’t cold, just, not hot. Of course, by cold, I mean, below 70 degrees. So let’s just say I miss it.
This morning it had to have been at least 60 degrees or colder. Too bad I overslept and was in a hurry and didn’t have time to enjoy it. I’m so excited about FALL!
the thin line between optimism and delusion... 