Foxy Writer Chick

It’s that time again. Summer is breathing its last and September is around the corner.

Not a fan of the ninth month. It’s rather like a nasty, festering carbuncle on an otherwise perfect year.

Now, you may be saying, “Wait a minute… You can’t impugn an entire month.”

Yes. Yes I can. And here’s my why and wherefore.

There’s a shtick in Seinfeld in “The Sniffling Accountant” episode where Jerry, Newman and Kramer argue about which days of the week have a specific feeling.**

Kramer: What’s today?
Newman: It’s Thursday.
Kramer: Really? Feels like Tuesday.
Newman: Tuesday has no feel. Monday has a feel, Friday has a feel, Sunday has a feel….
Kramer: I feel Tuesday and Wednesday…
Jerry: All right, shut up the both of you! You’re making me nervous. Where is he already? He should’ve been out of work by now.
Newman: Hey, you know this is kind of fun.
Kramer: Yeah, maybe we oughta become private detectives…
Jerry: Yeah maybe you should.
Kramer: Maybe I will.
Newman: Yeah, me too.

I’m not sure whether Tuesday has no feeling, but I surely know that September has a feeling. And it’s rather claustrophobic, clammy, and insane all at once.

First, the CLAUSTROPHOBIC part of September:

We’ve been seeing back-to-school ads on television and in-your-face displays in stores now since the fifth of July.

I don’t want to buy pencil cases and children’s cold-weather wear in July. Or August.

Stop pushing us.

But the retailers persist, and I for one find it depressing. It’s like summer is the fleeting moment between mid-June (when schools let out around my neck-of-the-woods) and July 4. And then fall is closing in…

Besides the obnoxiousness of retailers rushing our years through, there are the depressing songs that come with September–songs that remind us that time is ticking away and we’re not getting out of this thing happy or alive.

“Girl we’ve got to say goodbye for the summer…” Bobby Vinton’s classic “Sealed with a Kiss” reminds us that summer romances never really do work out.

The melancholy “September Song” recorded by many greats including Billie Holiday and John Lennon.

“Oh, it’s a long, long while from May to December/ But the days grow short when you reach September.” Yup. If I didn’t feel old before hearing these lyrics…

Frank Sinatra’s “The September of my Years” and the title says it all. Calculating…okay, I’m still safely in July. But September is right around the corner.

Or, from this century, there’s Greenday’s well known song:

I get it, Greenday. I really do. Please let me know when it’s safe to come out.

On to the CLAMMY part of September:

In our part of the country, it’s still hot as balls during the ninth month. The swimming pools have closed up for the season, and the AC never quite works in the public schools.

And then there’s the women who must look at the calendar, and put away their summer sandals to rock their boots.

Hey, not judging, but I have to think their feet have to stink.

It’s ninety-five degrees. Uggs? Ugh!

 And finally, the INSANE part of September:

When we sit back and close our eyes and think of September, we may have some pleasant thoughts:

falling leaves, pumpkin patch, special autumn coffee drinks, kids back to school–

Wait a minute–those pleasant thoughts just bit it big time.

Kids back to school means parents back into a killer routine. There’s morning duty with getting the family up and at it.

There are papers to fill out, and more papers to fill out, and even more papers to fill out.

There’s homework to supervise–and the nagging question, “How is it I can’t seem to help my kid on her third grade math homework?”

 

There’s no time for apple picking or a cup of nutmeg latte. Nope. We have soccer practice twelve times this week alone. And little Mignon’s book report is due Monday. And you promised the kids you’d cook them a real meal at least three times this week.

And so it’s September and this is you:

In closing, hang tough. Winter’s coming. And if you believe the retailers and army of boot-wearing chicks, it will be here tomorrow.

XOXO

Susan J. Anderson
Foxy Writer Chick

 

 

 

 

From The Daily Seinfeld http://dailyseinfeld.com/post/57072672948