Signs of the Season

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It’s that time of year again. Think you can match this guy’s haul?

Heard around the house (without context):
(Scene: bedroom, Saturday night)
Me: But it’s hard for me!
Prime: You’re hard for me!
Me (smirking): No, you’re hard for me.
Prime: …this conversation is disgusting and I want no part of it.

It’s getting late; we’re already hearing about Wildcard races in baseball and the start of football season. More and more trees are turning yellow, red, orange. Most are small patches, barely noticable. Others are far more prominent. We don’t need our AC unit right now; an open window is all we need to stay comfortable at night. The humidity is dropping, as is the dew point.

It’s nearly autumn. Labor Day is next week. It’ll be September in a matter of days. School will be starting soon after. Summer is all but gone.

I really don’t how I feel about that.

On one hand, it isn’t terrible; I won’t be roasting in the heat and humidity like I was this summer. On the other, it’s going to suck; we’re losing Karen in a matter of weeks, right when we need as many people as possible. The holiday shopping season is around the corner; we have a grand total of 125 days until Christmas. Now, that’s not so awful, as Costco isn’t nearly as stressful as Walmart. But it still gets busy and we do have the occasional irritable shopper. But it’s not as bad as Walmart, not by a long shot.

It still sucks. Because, whether I want to admit it or not, I’ve gotten permanently soured on Christmas. Walmart pretty much ruined the holiday for me and I may never care for it again. So many things that Walmart ruined, that I may never get back; why did I stay there as long as I did? It wasn’t worth the health problems–reflux, insomnia, anxiety–that I developed. The paycheck was laughable at best and a terrible joke at worst. I should have left years ago, long before management decided to do me a massive favor and shit me out the doors. But I was stupidly loyal, like always, so I stayed.

This is our third week with Lulu and it feels normal to me. It’s as if having a cat is something I needed, especially with my current anxiety issues. I haven’t had a panic attack in weeks now and that low level feeling of dread that I’ve carried for the past several months is gone. Yes, I still miss Sammy–I always will–but it seems like Lulu was what I needed. I’m in a better place mentally and it feels great. It really does.

You can tell the weather has gotten cooler just by looking at the sky; it’s not hazy at all now. It’s just a nice, clear blue.

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About Silverwynde

I'm a Transformers fan, Pokémon player, Brewers fan and all-out general nerd. I rescue abandoned Golett, collect as many Bumblebee decoys and figures as I can find and I've attended every BotCon since 1999. I'm also happily married to a fellow Transfan named Prime and we were both owned by a very intelligent half-Siamese cat, who crossed the Rainbow Bridge on June 16, 2018. We still miss him. But we're now the acting staff of a Maine Coon kitty named Lulu, who pretty much rules the house. Not that we're complaining about that.
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