Summer has not even decided to call it quits but I am already lamenting its end. The end of the season means more than low temperature. I dread the inevitable closet call I need to make. Remember the times when we did not have to worry about updating our wardrobe seasonally? Those days have passed for me.
When Spring dawned, bright and balmy this year, I uttered nothing less than an ecstatic shriek and packed my woolies in a drawer far, far away. I am pretty sure they smirked, obviously aware that I have to fall back on them… eventually. Spring passed, so did Summer, with me happily basking in the glory of tanks and shorts. While people cribbed about the hellish DC weather, I sang happily and ran around, savoring it. But who knew my tryst with the sun would end soon!
We are not done with the sunniness though. But I am a person of melodrama and pessimism. Hence, I moan though the weather people promise us at least a month more of this brilliance. Personally, hate layering. I admit that it seemed very exciting last year when it was all new and novel to me but the ordeal of packing my cottons and taking an inventory of things I have and need to buy is making me pretty dizzy here.
I comfort myself by thinking about the retail therapy it would involve. Until then, let me enjoy the sun while it lasts…