wrong time of year

[rushthatspeaks]

I hate autumn. I really do. It starts getting cold, and so I start trying to hibernate; I sleep six times as much in the fall, which is aggravating. There isn't as much sunlight, so I feel like it's never actually daytime. I can't really deal with cold anyhow, and around about November I just settle into this state of realizing that for the next five months I will not feel my feet.

Also, autumn is the time for memories. It's fascinating, but when I look back, I realize that about everything in my life that has ever happened that Really, Really Sucked, especially the things that have had nasty ramifications for years afterward, has happened in the fall. For a couple years there my life used to disintegrate along with the season. It's this time of year I always question my old choices, wonder if I'd done something else if it would have been all right.

Still, this year is better than last year, which was better than the year before that. I look at my life since I got to this college, and I'm really just amazed at how much things have improved. I've acquired a home, a family, a love life, meaningful academic work, a sense of purpose, a sense of stability, a career and a sense of inner peace. That's a heck of a lot, really. I mean, when I got to this school, the song I thought of as my theme, the one that summed me up best, was Tori Amos' 'Girl': "She's been everybody else's girl, maybe one day she'll be her own." These days it's ABBA's 'Motion': "Like a roller in the ocean, life is motion, move on; like a wind that's always blowing, life is flowing, move on. Like the sunrise in the morning, life is dawning, move on; how I treasure every minute, being part of, being in it, with the urge to move on." That's a serious change there.

But the leaves are falling, and after that comes snow.

Comments

That's a wonderful theme song.

[gaudior.livejournal.com]

Behold, I send you virtual hot apple cider (with no cinammon). In a month or so, it will be virtual hot chocolate, made with milk and cocoa and sugar and vanilla (which you may sniff before it's dribbled into the virtual pot on the virtual stove, which has been cleaned more recently than the real one). I also send you a warm blanket, and, what the hell, a fireplace. And, most significantly, a hug which evolves into a snuggle which evolves into sitting in my arms under the blanket with the mug, watching the fire.

Warmer now?

Love. In all seasons.
Ruth.