Every year, the day after Labor Day I get just a little depressed.
I can't identify with those exasperated moms and dads who look forward to kids heading back to school, as if the day after Labor Day is the finish line to some insane marathon they've been running for two months. No matter how crazy kids will get over the summer, I don't look forward to school starting up again.
School starting means summer is over, but that doesn't mean I don't cling to it. No, summer isn't truly over until The Chill comes. You know, it's that first morning you step out of your house and think to yourself "maybe I should have worn a light jacket." There's a chill and a crispness to the air outside, and it goes hand-in-hand with a faint scent in the air that I've come to detest over the years.
The Chill came this morning. The Chill means I ought to stop wearing summer clothes. The Chill means that even if I could break away from work and run to the beach, it's probably going to be too cold to enjoy. Worst of all, The Chill means that even if I want to cling to summer, everybody else has dispensed with it.
So everyone's excited about football, there's Halloween candy in the stores, and I'm sitting here in the office wearing shorts and flip flops. Goodbye, summer.