Why in the world are you celebrating? Labor Day is the official end of summertime and you act as if that’s a good thing. Quit it! There’s nothing to be happy about, today’s a big, fat buzz kill. You should be grieving, like me, not drinking beer and having fun.
Not only is this the end of summer, it also marks the return of noses to grindstones. And that includes yours, bub. Or, wait, maybe you hoarded your vacation days for the abundant fun winter brings: dark, bleak mornings scraping an icy windshield in sub-zero temperatures. Or losing the feeling in your face from stiff, bitterly cold wind. Or being trapped inside 40 pounds of itchy, constrictive clothing. Gosh, you know, that is fun.
If you’re insane.
I’m not. I like summer and everything it offers, there’s no downside for me. I’d probably enjoy autumn, too, if it preceded spring, but it doesn’t. Fall is the gateway to that horror show called winter, so I resent its blustery existence. I resent the failing light and the dying leaves, the chilly air and, ugh, football. My heart sinks at the mere sight of a chrysanthemum.
The harsh reality is, with the arrival of Labor Day comes the too sudden departure of much that is awesome and delightful. Look and weep:
All of that, and so very much more, is now dead as a doornail. Labor Day murdered it. So ready or not, it’s time to prepare for another endless and miserable winter of discontent. Still feel like celebrating?
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