is watching the temperature climb with mixed feelings. Sometimes, fall should be fall - sweaters and scarves and warm coats; layers and toques and hot drinks in your hand as you crunch through the leaves in the fog.I see the weather says we should be back up into the mid-high 20s, though, by the end of the week. This is good for my folks, who will be visiting with me, but bad for me because I want to wear sweaters not flipflops. Who would have thought that I'd be longing for cool air and frosty mornings? I think probably it's just how much I love fall clothes. Summer clothes are sundresses, but psychologically I can't wear a sundress in mid-November. Plus people here look at you funny: once the date clicks past October they're in full winter gear no matter what the temperature. OK maybe not parkas but you get the drift.
This funny in-between life has me in a funny headspace. I'm not unhappy, but I'm not happy. I feel like I'm just waiting for something, but I have no idea what that something is. I want to re-invent myself, maybe, find a new style a new look a new way of thinking about the world. I want to get excited about something. I'm victim to the post-obama melancholy. Yes we can, but can we? what can we do?
I wrote a letter yesterday to appeal to the sympathies of the US government - to ask them to please process my application for permission to travel in time for me to go home for Christmas. I've never spent it away from Calvin. I don't want to start now.
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