It finally happened. This morning I reached over to slap off the alarm and realized it was still dark. The clock read 6:15 a.m. but the sun was not quite up yet.
And so the descent into darkness begins. Ohschweetbebejeebuz, help me.
I used to love fall, but the last decade of living at 47 deg N has overly sensitized me to The Dark Days. The first tint of color on maples and the smell of new pencils and denim now completely bums me out. Mr. B has tried making encouraging noises about soup and bread and rainy afternoons, but I'm just not feeling it. All I see is day after day of not being able to raise my head off the desk without a prop.
I must figure out a way to break this negative association. It's getting so I start hyperventilating at the Summer Solstice. That's just pathetic.
I'm hoping this year's slide will be a little easier to take since we have a Very Special Occasion coming up in a mere 67 days. And that's something to smile about, especially since I have confirmation that Evil Twin has purchased her plane ticket.