I write to you today out of love (except for you commercials, you know what you've done). I care about you all very much, but I must firmly tell you all to cool it. Cool. It.
|Cool it. I say this to you because I care.|
Summer is not over, and let's all cling to every last bit of it until the fall equinox rolls around. In fact, I personally believe we should keep the summer spirit going all the way through the end of September. Oh, what's that, you can't have fun because school is in session? That's what weekends are for, kid. And don't be afraid to get a little crazy every now and then on a weeknight. Will you deeply regret it at work the next day? Of course. But that time you strolled around in your neighborhood in your pajamas, playing the B-flat scale on your flute, will always be a good story.
All too soon, the leaves will be changing and we'll be assaulted with PSL advertisements and an overuse of the adjective "crisp." Before we know it, we'll be neck deep in what is shaping up to be another miserable winter.
|Is this what you want?|
|No. This is what you want.|