Yeah, you just clicked a column named after a Kid Rock lyric. Because that’s where you are in life – beaten down because Labor Day has come and gone and you’re sitting at your desk wondering where the hell summer went.
Remember the swift dick kick that is winter? Wearing scarves, tying and untying boots, and just the general terribleness of being freezing cold? That’s going to be here sooner than summer ever even disappeared. Sure, in your mind, you have dreams of lattes, spiked cider, and flannel shirts because you *love* fall. But you don’t actually love fall – you love the idea of it because your brain got in the comfort zone of summer and all of the sudden you thought it was a good idea to look forward to a season that revolves around leaves fucking dying. Do you feel good about celebrating a season that celebrates a living thing dying? Are those dead, discolored leaves beautiful to you? You make me sick.
Sure, yeah, football season fell right into our laps. We were spoiled, though, because every game felt like a big game. But that’s the excitement getting to us. Every weekend isn’t going to be like this weekend, guys. Nope. For every Notre Dame versus Texas game, there’s going to be game next week with the word “Tech” in the box score. Ole Miss and Florida State? They’re playing Wofford and Charleston Southern respectively. That’s a reality check that none of us asked for or deserved.
I apologize for the realness, but sugarcoating what we’re staring in the face right now wouldn’t be fair to any of us, would it? Summer is better than fall, fall is better than winter, and spring is mostly mud puddles of melted snow rather than May flowers. We’re about to go from hitting the bars in the bathing suits we wore out earlier that day to silently wondering, “Think it’s acceptable for me to wear these sweatpants out tonight?” before deciding to skip going out altogether because it’s rainy, cold, and Uber’s rocking a 3x surge.
Kid Rock eloquently states in “All Summer Long” that we all truly thought “those days would never end.” But here we are. Hungover from our long weekends. Sitting at our desks with inboxes overflowing with emails from the try-hards who put in work over the last couple days. And the last sunburns we’ll have until Memorial Day because all of our PTO is getting used for weddings between now and then rather than the tropical vacations we deserve.
We’re spiraling, and I know this isn’t helpful. Up until this point, it’s been 400 words of John McCain’s Straight Talk Express. I’m not here to bring anyone down, but I’m also not ignorant to the fact that this isn’t helping anyone’s post-summer anxiety. But what I have here is a plea. A plea for you to embrace the shittiness that is the fall in front of us. Forget light beers on the boat, and grab those thick, nutty microbrews that feel so good on a crisp day. Go to a pumpkin patch and buy yourself an overpriced gourd. Carve that shit with your girlfriend and give her the likes she so craves. Trade in your tan thighs and start layering up over your fat, chicken-wing stuffed body. Nothing screams “I came to play” like showing up to a bar wearing a retro crewneck alum sweatshirt without showering. Embrace the filth. Hose off the duck boots. Pray you still fit in last year’s jeans. Get used to the fact that you’re about to take a million pictures of your girlfriend throwing leaves in the air.
Because like it or not, fall is here. And it’s not going away. .