It's getting cooler, slowly...
Maybe it's only that it doesn't stay that way long enough for the novelty to wear off, but I think I'm going to enjoy winter this year.
It's strange for me to say that, because always in the past I have loathed the coming of the freezing temperatures, have dreaded and counted down the months, weeks, days, until they're gone for good.
But I wonder if maybe my acceptance and maybe even a little anticipation means that I'm finally overcoming my addiction to fall. Could it be true? Am I finally letting go of the fact that it doesn't take a season to make good things happen in my life? True, they have, but bad things have happened, too, and it just doesn't make sense (well, okay, it does to me, but I'll pretend otherwise) that I would look forward to autumn so much and feel so terribly bereaved when all the leaves fall off and it's cold, really cold.
Or maybe I'll change my mind midway into December and absolutely despise the winter again.
I think I might have Seasonal Affective Disorder. Seriously.