Here I am, eight days out from writing a post on clichés, and all I feel like writing are mediative thoughts on the changing of the seasons. Sorry! I can’t help it. For the very first time that I can recall, I am super excited for fall. I walked into a Walgreens today, saw a sign for flu shots, and my reflexive thought was, “Awesome! I want one!”

Lois always has lots of chores to take care of outside. Fall is particularly busy for her.
Lois always has lots of chores to take care of outside. Fall is particularly busy for her.

It was definitely the first time that happened. I’m so geeked about fall, I guess, because change feels good. Someone recently mentioned how living on a tropical island near the equator would be so great, and the thought sort of sent me into a vertigo spell. Great? Waking up every day to the same weather, the same attire, the same length of day? That sounds like a nightmare. And that’s before you even consider poisonous things, something winter politely eliminates from one’s existence. I’m sort of off my point here, but a lot of sameness drives me nuts.

The work life of a freelance writer is full of cycles. There’s a cycle to the workload, a cycle with income, and because those two things are (mind-blowingly) on somewhat different rhythms, there are periods of time with lots of work and little pay and others with a break in the workload but the checks keep coming in. I was just fortunate enough to go through a little spurt of the latter. It was pretty nice. So guess where I am now?

At fall. I’m at fall. And though I’m working my tail off and dreaming of the money I’ll get for it in two month, I also I get to wear sweatshirts and take walks with a to-go mug of tea in one hand and my husband’s hand in the other. We get to let Lois hang out in the cool backyard with all the extra busy squirrels she thinks are her friends. We get to put mums on the porch and bring the houseplants inside and use the quilts that have been decorating the couches since March.

It’s nice to feel something come to a close, like flip-flop weather or A/C season or plans every stinking weekend season. It allows for the mental space needed to start new cycles, like riding my bike more and reading more books or sending pitches to new publications and sketching out a new book idea. I’m excited about fall, because there is so much to begin. And the flu shot thing. I am oddly pumped about that too.

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