This is a public service announcement, this is only a test.
I recently learned that the average person complains about twenty times per day. From my non empirical Facebook research, I’d venture that number is higher.
In a world where there is a hashtag for every possible problem (#fwp, #shortgirlproblems, #curlyhairproblems, #adulting, etc.), I’ll just add to the complain-o-sphere. Fall is my least favorite season, followed closely by winter. There, I said it. Even at the risk of alienating myself because people apparently love them some autumn. I’ll be the Ebenezer Scrooge of the space between warm wonderful summer and festive (but cold) winter.
I don’t dislike everything about fall. I like back to school and football (which oddly are now during the summer). I also like Halloween and Thanksgiving. I just can’t get on the pumpkin spice everything bandwagon.
Posh, Ginger, Baby, Scary, Sporty, Old. All preferred over pumpkin. And not just because they’re rather naked people.
If I think about it, I guess the factors are weather related. I don’t like being cold (although it is yet to be cold here; of course it will be, now that I’ve said it out loud). Shorter days, things dying. I has a sad. Seasonal Affective Disorder.
Nope. It’s too much.
I can’t even.
I think Atticus might be susceptible to PSLS. Pumpkin Spice Lovers Syndrome. The other day he wanted a Punkin Pie Lizzard = Pumpkin Pie Blizzard.
And get this peeps, according to
☆bux Starby’s Starbucks, PSL doesn’t even have any pumpkin flavor. But I get it, create artificial demand. Just like Whataburger doesn’t sell the A1 Thick n’ Hearty Burger all year. That’s a whole separate travesty though.
So while everyone’s all like OMG I love PSL and fall, I’ll be over here like ugh fall. Enjoy PSLers. Blah.