FU, Fall-izing

Ooooooobviously you all know my disdain for fall. And winter, for that matter. I don’t really enjoy dead leaves on the ground, no leaves on the trees, everything brown, nothing green, days getting dark so early, days that are freezing and windy and rainy and grey.

What I like even less, though, is the prep work that goes into getting ready for these depression-inducing months. Serotones is slipping! Seriously, bears have it MADE. I wish I wish I wish I could hibernate the fall and winter and early spring away!

Alas, we humans have no such luxury. Life is just so unfair! We must slip and fall on stupid slick leaves and plod through dirty, icy, sloppy slush. And to do so, we need to be somewhat prepared.

I have held off for as long as I possibly could. But it’s been in the back of my mind: I had to succumb to fallizing sooner or later. So I sucked it up and ripped that band aid off. Major ouch.

For some people, fallizing is “fun”. It’s “enjoyable”. Something they “look forward too”. These people are the reason serial killers exist. (Hence why Ocean State Job Lot is still in business). For them it’s all excitement all the time. They just cannot WAIT to break out the red and orange table cloths, the apple and cinnamon candles, the faux pumpkins, the goose-neck gourds. Me oh me oh my!

If only “fallizing” was that easy pour moi.

But no. You see, unfortunately my rabbit hutch can only accommodate two seasons at a time. Fall/winter and spring/summer. In other words, my entire closet, shoe rack, dresser, and all of my under-the-bed storage bins much be switched out.

Thankfully I have Tim and Trissi for parents and they dutifully bring in all my winter clothes, or summer clothes, to be swapped with the opposite season’s goods. (Hmm...I wonder how old I have to be for that super-duper-favor to stop...)

My horrific-cold-weather clothes have been trickling in since last month. But, ever the dreader, those freshly dry cleaned sweaters have been forming a formidable mountain on the floor in my one available corner.

So last night, after bickering back and forth with myself, I made a compromise. IF I didn’t go to the gym, THEN I had to change over the ole wardrobe and clean.

An hour and a half into it, I surely wished I had chosen the stupid elliptical. Dust bunnies GALORE. I’m telling you, there was enough furry grey particles full of hair to cover a giant rabbit. It was deeee-sgust-ing. So disgusting I can’t even bring myself to read what else dust is comprised of - hair and dead skin particles are enough to induce vomit.

I packed up strappy sandal after strappy sandal (thinking, perhaps, that I have too many strappy sandals), open-toe flats, flip flops. I tearfully unhung flowy, flowery frocks and replaced them with drab, sweltering sweater dresses. I neatly removed the mountain-o-sweaters from my floor and piled them on the top shelf in my closet. I sadly pulled out heap after heap of tank tops and short-sleeved shirts and put turtlenecks - TURTLENECKS - in their place.

Then I attacked the bunnies. Boy were they crazy, hyped up bunnies. Flying all sorts of everywhere, sticking to my legs, dashing just out of reach the second I tried to scoop them into the dustpan. It took a very, very long time. I swept my floor for fifteen minutes straight - that’s practically a minute per square foot. Nuts! And I washed it. Twice.

Then I dusted. But again, I’s not gonna go into details cause I don’t want to think what’s in the dust.

I tackled the bathroom, the “kitchen”, I Windex-ed the mirrors, the hanging pictures, cleaned the surface of my TV, the top of my fridge, my microwave, my stove. Then I thought, wow. I’m not just fallizing. Oh no. It’s much worse than that. I’m spring cleaning. But it’s fall.
I’M SORRY, THERE’S FALL CLEANING, TOO?????? Omg.

Sure, the bunnies wouldn’t be so bountiful if I kept after their grey, furry little asses. Fine. All I can say is I’m soooooo happy that switching out seasonal wardrobes is something that only comes but twice a year.