Thursday, September 26, 2013

The First Day of Fall

During fall, the cooler weather forces the sunny easiness of summer to man up and take note of reality.  Things are going to get serious before they get hard, says fall.  I don’t care if you’ve been free to grow and blossom all summer, says fall to the trees; I am going to strip away your beauty and show everyone what you’re really made of.  It’s a little bit bossy, fall.  I usually step in line and dutifully create a routine that will work until June; work and school and extracurricular activities for kids and adults, productive weekends that leave no stone unturned, no project ignored. 

Despite the authoritativeness in the air, I acknowledged the change of season with a rebellious attitude – I woke up late, at 8am.  These days, 8am is late because I am forty and waking up then tops the list of the most dangerous things that I do, just below wearing skinny jeans with heels to the grocery store.  I thumbed my nose at fall.  I was Joan Jett in powder-blue pajama pants.

The wind was blowing, the sky was partly cloudy, and I was mischievously enjoying the decision that my husband and I had made, that we would not be spending the day at the amusement park due to a chance of rain.  We idly watched the summer end, our amusement park-planned weekend rescheduled at least twice before because something better came up.  Not that we have anything against amusement parks.  It’s just that we can think of a thousand other things we’d rather do than be at one.

So on this first day of fall, all previous scheduling was thrown out the window, and the day stretched before me as I realized I had a blog reader full of blogs to read, a pot of coffee, and little to do other than clean bathrooms, which could wait until I was good and ready.  It felt villainously indulgent.  Screw you, fall.  Summer may be over, but I am not going to surrender to your arbitrary statutes of order and routine.  Not today.

The morning flew by and at eleven o’clock I was still in my pajamas.  My husband was long gone, running unrelated errands like dropping off dry-cleaning and buying toothpaste.  He had fallen victim to fall’s demands, scurrying around like a squirrel stashing acorns in random spots on our lawn, only to be forgotten until new oak trees sprout in the spring.  The kids were hiding in the basement, aware that their own lackadaisical Saturday was in jeopardy if they made a peep or moved a muscle.  They shared my defiance towards fall.  Plus, they knew were expected to help with the bathrooms.

I didn’t mind; they were together, they were quiet, and they were getting along. No button-pushing, no whining, no calling each other out for infractions like breathing too loud or accidentally punching each other in the stomach.  I know when to leave well enough alone.  Harmonious children best clean bathrooms any day.

So there I sat, blazing through blogs like wildfire.  Eleven-thirty.  Eleven forty-five.  At once, the garage door activated; my husband was home.  At once I took in my sleep-ravaged hair, the cup of forgotten coffee at my elbow.  What am I doing?  I asked myself.  It is an unspoken rule that laziness among the lazy is acceptable; laziness among the industrious is profane.  On the first day of fall, the profanity of inactivity is unforgivable.  The guilt-by-laziness feeling bent my rebellion, compelling me to submit.  Fall was forcing its hand.

Like Flash Gordon I raced upstairs, plugged my laptop back into the power source, and haphazardly threw on some clothes.   Any semblance of hygiene was abandoned.  I ran down the hall, grabbed some rags and cleaner from the closet, and called out for the kids to come upstairs and get to work, for goodness’ sakes!  YOUR DAD’S HOME!  Spraying the bathroom cleaner against the countertop, I left them to fend for themselves.  It was not a proud moment.

But in that moment, all I could think of was that I cared not to be judged for my transgressions.  The first day of fall had won, once again.

Yeah, right.

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This post was inspired by:

Mama’s Losin’ It

Prompt #1:
Happy Fall!  The first day of Fall was September 22nd share something fall-related you did!

28 comments:

  1. Replies
    1. Living on the edge - it is a way of life for some of us. ;)

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  2. Oh how I love this! "It is an unspoken rule that laziness among the lazy is acceptable; laziness among the industrious is profane." I feel that way every single time I sit down on the couch. Fall IS bossy, isn't it. Maybe that's why he (definitely a he) and I don't get along so much.

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    1. What's worse than feeling lazy when others are industrious is that those same others often don't return the feeling when they are lazy and I am industrious. It's not right.

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  3. Fall is a total Bossypants. I think a little rebellion is good sometimes. :)

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    1. Me too! My powder blue PJ pants agree. :)

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  4. So, it's okay that I am lazy then, right?! It's a life choice.

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    1. Yes, I think so. In moderation. In the name of rebellion, it's practically noble.

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  5. Sounds like my day today! I finished my coffee though :)

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    1. Way to go! You're a much better rebel than me, acting out mid-week and all. :)

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  6. Lazy days totally rock. You know, in a chill kinda way. And now coffee sounds good. At 8 p.m. ;-)

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    1. Coffee always sounds good! Especially when there's dessert involved.

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  7. Are you saying it's not normal to still be in your pajamas at 11:30 on a weekend morning? Uh oh, I think I've been doing it wrong all these years. ;)

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    1. No, I think you're doing it absolutely right.

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  8. The way to assuage your guilt about pajama pants at 11:30 on a Saturday morning is simply to make pajama pants your at-home attire on a regular basis. Problem solved.

    "...laziness among the lazy is acceptable; laziness among the industrious is profane." Quite possibly my favorite line from your blog like ever.

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    1. Hmmm, I think you're onto something there. About the pajama pants. The other part was just a really, really nice thing to say. Thank you. :)

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  9. Congratulations on a pajama day!

    I do love fall. I simply wish it had started here. We have shorter days, but the weather is still in the 80s. Soon enough I get to snuggle into sweaters and pull out my fuzzy pjs for my pajama day.

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    1. I know - we are in the 70s here. But 70s in the fall means jeans and layers. In the spring it means shorts and tanks. What's with that?

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  10. Ahhh, just add pizza and you've got the perfect fall day right here!

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  11. Oh, man. My husband would be befuddled if he came home to me cleaning. Now, I do scramble to finish supper quite. a. bit.

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    1. These days, I get more cleaning done in the thirty seconds it takes my husband to walk in the house than any other time.

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  12. I love this. It's so true it's ok to be lazy when everyone else is but when people are being industrious not so much. I hate when I want to be lazy and the hubs wants to get things done.

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    1. Yes! And my husband paces... and paces... to get me to act. Usually he just wants me to entertain him.

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  13. Fall has kicked my butt this year and I just don't know why. I usually love it, but it went into it kicking and screaming. I'll see your rebellion, and raise you . . . :-)

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    1. Join the revolution. We can make t-shirts.

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  14. David would have totally walked in to find me still in my pajamas.

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    1. Yeah, that still happens sometimes. It's nice to know that my shame over inaction can be used for good - a kick in the pants that I need, if you will. Sometimes. Okay, no it isn't.

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