I keep waiting for fall. I know it's supposed to be here. The trees thought it was here, and most of them have shed their leaves; the ones that haven't have started turning the typical ugly Texas colours of brown and browner. The mornings tease me with cool breezes but by afternoon I find my hopeful thoughts of wearing a sweater have become a deathtrap of heat during my work day. And yes, I'm going to say it -- It's not fair.
I want a real fall season, with beautiful trees and crisp air. I want clear nights with brilliant stars to gaze up at. I want to be somewhere beautiful. I want to wake up each morning and look out my window and think that there is nowhere else I would rather be.
Why, oh why am I in Texas?
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