Summer versus fall

It's been a while since one of these went down. A terrible webcam photo of yours truly and a boring post without food or pretty pictures, revolving around my actual day to day life and thoughts. Wooo. But first and foremost, look at that busted chair. Thanks, cats. I reupholster a nasty chair with the cheapest fabric in the scrap pile for the living room corner painting studio that I never use and this is how you treat it? Shame.

Pharmacy school has started. Oh pharmacy school. Can we break up already? This is year three out of four, so at least we're over half way there. The constant studying and a certain wife falling asleep alone hasn't started yet, but I can smell it. I'm just trying very hard to look at it from the "the sooner it starts, the sooner it's over" side, but it's got me a little bummed. And I know Brendon isn't stoked either.

This cycle with pharmacy school has brought on mixed feelings about my favorite time of the year. I am not a summer person, and I don't think I ever have been. I look forward to the fall months leading to the holy time of December (so much irony) all year long. But this year, I want to hold on to summer. Not the heat, hell no, not the heat, but the summeryness of summer. The freedom and the fun and the carefreeness. The husband out of school and the adventures we have together. TWO incomes. Bright colors and sunglasses and tan lines and even sandals. Luckily for me, we live in Texas and summer is basically forever, or at least until November, but school starting is the unofficial beginning of fall regardless of temperature. There are cases of pumpkin syrup on my shelves at work, begging to be latte-ed up. Stores are clearancing their shorts and showing off their sweaters (and I want them all, oh my goodness especially this one). Leaves are starting to change in regions of America with seasons. My Facebook newsfeed is unfortunately flooded with football posts. Halloween costumes are being schemed and I've got a hankering to watch You've Got Mail. And somehow tomorrow is the first day of September. It's happening. Fall is happening. And usually I'd be lapping it all up, but I am clinging to summer. I am a fairly forward thinking person, but I want to go back. I want to rewind to May and do it all again. Madness. I blame this on a wonderful summer and funky things happening in my life at the moment. Fall is the season of change and maybe that's what I'm afraid of. But I need to quit it. Fall is the most wonderful time of the year, followed by the most magical month of the year. I am going to enjoy it, damnit. One pumpkin latte at a time (kidding, not actually a fan of pumpkin outside of candles). So bring it on, September. Whatever you bring, I'm armed with a handful of fake red and yellow leaves and an arsenal of fall baking ideas.

And this has nothing to do with anything, but because I'm a maniac and love working 50+ hours a week, I got a second job. This summer I started sewing a day or two a week at a drapery workroom with the sweetest lady ever. Seriously, nicest boss in the world. This job is my happy place. It's the greatest escape and I am learning so much. I get to sew with fancy machines on fancy fabric and learn fancy tricks and techniques. I haven't sewn at home since I've started, but I imagine my little machine will feel... different. But this little job has made me realize even more that I am happiest when I am making something. When my hands are at work. Even if it's drapes for someone's home that I'll never see, I'm creating. I'm not sure where my calling is in the world (honestly, is anyone? If you know, then tell me the secret to figuring it out), but I feel like I'd be pretty happy as long as my hands are at work making something. Preferably something pretty. I think I need to take this more to heart.

End ramble. If you made it this far, congrats. I think all that typing about fall has me ready for it. I'm sad to see summer end, but I'm about ready to tackle this fantastic season. Maybe I'll just pop You've Got Mail in and let it push me over the edge.