You can give those sunglasses a rest.
In November. . .
. . . no matter how poorly your favorite NFL team is doing, there’s still a theoretical chance of making the playoffs.
. . . you don’t have to slather on sunscreen whenever you go out.
. . . you can finally put away the lawn mower (unless you live in Florida, in which case you should skip the rest of this article).
. . . you no longer need to spend your lunch hour watering the outdoor plants, because they’re all dead.
November offers. . .
. . . fifty distinct shades of gray in the daytime sky.
. . . midterm exams, and a chance to determine whether $20,000 tuition has been worth it.
. . a good test of your new SAD full-spectrum light box.
November. . .
. . . makes all the other months (except February) look good.
November is . . .
. . only 30 days long, not 31.
I hope you weren't expecting anything profound.
If I ever need to plead insanity, this blog will provide valuable evidence.
Copyright (c) 2022 by Leah Carson, d/b/a Excellent Words, LLC