Okay, people. This is a bit much. It is the month of October. A month that is full of pumpkins and scarecrows and hot chocolate and hay rides and flannel shirts and colorful leaves. Why am I experiencing weather trends that are akin to June and July? I wore a tshirt, flimsy workout pants and Chacos to the soccer fields today and got burnt to a crisp. A crisp. I've got those zig zag lines on my feet from the shoes. I watched several soccer games, including those of G and F. S and the hub traveled to Harrogate, taking their lives into their own hands, and returned victorious. Her team has a history of being physically brutalized by the girls up there and our parents get brutalized by the parents up there. I forgot to slip cash into S's bag in case someone needed to be bailed out, but luckily it was not needed. The boy's game was a different story. With no ref(since S was at her own game), anarchy was king. Everywhere else in the world, it is called football. American soccer today turned into flailing about like banshees and whomping and pushing and rolling all over the field. I was exhausted watching it, holding my phone in my hand in case I needed to call 911.
I now sit with my feet up, feeling as though steam or smoke or the sound of sizzling is coming from my skin. I'm going to slather up with aloe gel and hit the hay. Living the dream, friends.
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