The End of Summer is the Beginning of Fall, so I'm Told
The End of Summer is the Beginning of Fall, so I'm Told
Dear Reader,
I am pleased to report that this morning I awoke to complete darkness, but was not dead!
It was an altogether frightening experience. One that I would never wish upon you, my learned compatriot. It began when I opened my eyes. I could not see what was out in front of me! A very strange occurrence, to be sure, considering God bestowed my gorgeous green glancers with 20/20 vision…
“Oh, beautiful world, where art thou!?” I screeched into the void. But then, three glowing digits appeared in the periphery of my vision. It was the time! 6:05 am.
And so, dear reader, it was dawn! But where was the sun? Too low to have yet made a single impression upon my bedroom window… but how? And that’s when I recalled…
Fall!
This is a little known fact, but did you know that when summer ends, a new season begins? They don’t want you to know this. It’s a secret kept by the current presidential administration, whoever that may be (it’s important my writing, like me, doesn’t age).
Ha! A joke! Of course you know Fall… Autumn… Surely! It’s only the most famous quadrant of the year!
But do you really know her?
I woke up this morning with the incredible feeling that I don’t know Fall at all. Not who she truly is, anyway. I know her for her branding. As we all know, Fall has had the greatest branding campaign of any of the seasons, by far. Spring is inconsistent. Winter starts strong but overstays her welcome. Summer is sexy, to be sure, but also completely disgusting. Fall is that girl, from top to bottom.
Fall is the leaves and freshly sharpened pencils, apples heavy on the ends of a tree branch. She’s buying school supplies in the CVS even though she’s 34. She’s redownloading all the good productivity apps and deleting all the bad media ones. She’s the spice white people like! Like cinnamon… mmmmmm! Now with more lead! She’s silly and spooky in tall boots. She’s saying, “yeah, girl, now’s the time when we can really start dressing!”
And you believe her! You fool! You have fallen yet again for her autumnal tricks. Tell me, what are you wearing right now? Is that hideous number really only feasible one fourth of the year?!
Sorry… I’ll try not to lash out. I’m just trying to remember what I like about Fall, other than the things people tell me I ought to like about it. But I can’t help but feel like someone is pulling the merino wool over my eyes! Are the days not getting shorter? Are the superior fruits and vegetables not withering away on the vine? Is drinking outside midday not becoming more so frowned upon, when it was championed just the month before last?
Perhaps my new-found skepticism of Fall is simply a misplaced mourning of the year almost over. Not to say I will miss this year, or any year in particular. Is every subsequent year not the most dreadful combination of events to ever transpire? Of course! Yet I dread the passage of time.
In Fall, I formally turn one year older. Libra Squad Rise Up! (If you’re doubting my sincerity, fuck you! You don’t know me at all!). Don’t you, fellow Libra, feel completely underrepresented in the media? Where are OUR stories??
Sigh, but, alas, I am not so excited about my birthday. My D.O.B. has turned on me and I on it. My age no longer compliments me, and so why celebrate it? It mocks me! Making constant progress while I remain stagnant.
So, what else is there? I’m already dreading Halloween. Oh, Halloween, why can’t I ever be one of your chosen ones? Why can’t I ever be effortlessly handsome in costume? I always have to look so stupid! It is my curse, my role, my destiny. The streets are littered with men dressed as the sexy main lead in the top FX-Hulu-Max-Disney original, and I’m, once again, playing an obscure fictional child!
So, Fall, what else can you offer me? A false re-start? Shall I take the coward's way out and embrace the excitement of the academic year? Sure, I may have squandered the year thus far, but look at my school planner! The Gregorian calendar lies in the waste bin, the last fourth of that year discarded in favor of an alternate universe where September appears at the top of the page.
Well, yes!
Happy New Year,
Sara Gunn
xoxo