Somehow, Thanksgiving is next week, and finals are in less than a month, and I register for Spring 2003 on Thursday. Spring? I’m picking out my classes for T-shirt weather while I’m still sleeping with socks and a hoodie? And seriously, Thanksgiving means Christmas isn’t far off and I mean really, didn’t this semester just start?

It doesn’t seem fair, somehow, that I spend half the year sweating through the warm months, waiting for fall to get here, and then it’s over within all of, what, thirty seconds? It was eighty degrees on the first day of October and in the low forties by Halloween. I do prefer cold and rainy over sweltering and sticky (or so I keep telling myself on the walk to class every morning, along with things like “I should really buy gloves”), but I miss the in-between seasons.

I suppose it could be worse. I have this crazy-ass gingerbread-flavored tea of which I was highly skeptical, but it’s like sex in a mug. I have many, many layers and when I’m wearing all of them I can sometimes even feel my toes. I have a Hale & Hearty card, and it’s totally soup weather.