The alarm sounded this morning, and I was jarred out of a horrible dream in which good friends (and a wonderful couple) were going through a divorce. I was shocked in the dream, mostly because they’re SO unlikely to ever split, and shocked BY the dream when I woke up, wondering why I come up with this awful stuff in my sleep.
After smacking “snooze” three times, I decided that all I really wanted out of the day was time to read. I didn’t want to go to work; I didn’t want to exercise. I just wanted quiet and books.
It’s cloudy today, offering a welcome reprieve from the searing, stifling heat. I know that complaining about the weather is, like, the LEAST productive thing in the world, and furthermore, I know it totally irritates my husband, but I just can’t help it! It’s too hot! It would be one thing if we lived in Phoenix and I was complaining about 100 degree temps, but we live spitting distance from the mountains that lay claim to “the greatest snow on Earth,” so why am I sweating by 7 am?
But today is cooler thanks to the clouds and a brief rain this morning. It’s even a little humid today, which is sweet relief after the dry-aired summer of itchy-scratchy skin. In honor of the Pennsylvania-summer weather we’re having, I got my East Coast on this morning, complete with pearls, an oxford shirt and flowery clogs that smack of summer camp and Scandinavia. It’s my default look, I’ve come to realize. It’s even more comfortable to me than yoga-wear (a close second), because East Coast girl look works even when I’m feeling fat, like today. (See above. No exercise makes me feel like I gained 40 pounds overnight.) Preppy with some roundness is almost expected, cute. Yoga-wear without the perfect bod is plain horrifying. Even if the yoga-wear in question is the otherwise perfect Lululemon Reverse Groove Pant.
The cloudy weather makes me think of J. Crew barn jackets, old jeans and hiking boots, pearls, shetland wool, grass, leaves. I’ll enjoy the final third of summer – no doubt about that – but part of me is already looking forward to Fall. To cool air coming down the canyons at night, to fires and wine and crunchy leaves underfoot. To climbing in the heat of the day then bundling up at night. To ski hats. Down vests. Wool socks. Woodsmoke.