It was cold last night.
So cold, in fact, that I actually managed to get out of my bed – in my sleep! – to put on a sweatshirt. I honestly have no recollection of doing so, but I woke up with one on, so that’s really the only explanation there is, right? This is as opposed to me taking my clothes off in my sleep, which I have done this summer more times than I can count. Let me tell you, it’s a little weird – at least the first few times – to wake up no longer in the clothes you know you went to sleep in.
Anyway, I had a point, and me taking my clothes off was definitely not it.
It’s getting cold. That was my point.
The cooler weather can only mean one thing: fall is coming. And thank goodness for that. Fall is my favorite season. It’s not just that fall includes Halloween and Thanksgiving, or that it leads up to Christmas (my favorite time of the year!) and my birthday (the most important holiday – yes, holiday – there is). It’s more… a feeling. There’s just something about fall, much of which I think has to do with the butterflies I get in my stomach every year in anticipation of the start of something new. I’m no longer in school, so this expected newness isn’t quite as tangible as it once was. In fact, it leaves me feeling achingly in need of a swift change of pace… but without any clear direction in which to go.
This is now the second approaching fall during which I will not be returning to classrooms with crisp notebooks of clean pages waiting to be filled, a refreshed dedication to organization and a renewed determination to learn, to actually do all of my assigned reading for once and commit to my subjects with an unprecedented fervor. But, as you may have expected, most years saw each of those bright ideas dwindling as the weeks went on and the novelty wore off.
Anyway, despite the lack of an upcoming school year, the butterflies are fluttering and I find myself feeling simultaneously pensive, lost, and anticipatory as I see September so quickly approaching.
I can safely say that fall is the time of the year that I most question my move to LA from the east coast. Already, I’m feeling nostalgic for the brightly turning leaves, the crunch under my feet, the need for cozy sweaters and the bite of fall air. Those things don’t exist out here, except by fluke. Southern California simply seems to transition into a cooler summer.
I do what I can to create my own fall, though. Last year, I bought this pumpkin spice-scented hand soap and kept it in my bathroom, thus bringing myself a constant sensory reminder of the season I love so much. Oh, and I can’t forget Starbucks’ Pumpkin Spice Lattes. My excitement for those is palpable every time I even pass by one of the ten thousand Starbucks in LA.
Soap and lattes aren’t enough, though, and I can feel it in my bones. I need a change. I just don’t know what my next step is.