By: Zahra Elkara
It’s 7am on an October morning, and I wake up to the lovely sight of “heat advisory” on my phone. The forecast predicts a high of 103 degrees, but I choose to ignore that. I intend to enjoy this beautiful fall morning.
I slip on my UGGS, which immediately begin producing beads of sweat across my feet. I throw on a sweater, pretending like I didn’t just check the weather app. Naturally, I have to stop for a pumpkin chai on my way to school. I order the drink iced, of course, because I’m not a cretin. As I take my first sip, I imagine myself walking through the streets of some quaint New England town, surrounded by orange leaves and a crisp autumn breeze. Instead, I’m late to school while sitting in traffic on the 57 North, staring at the same green palm trees and cracked asphalt with pure annoyance.
By second period, I feel regret come to me in waves. Why did I wear this sticky sweater, or these uggs that are making my feet burn. It can’t be worth it. My mind wanders, I instinctively open Pinterest and see another picture of a girl in a scarf holding a pumpkin spice chai. Suddenly I’m inspired to persevere.
This weekend, perhaps I’ll stop by a pumpkin patch, which is just a collection of hay bales and overpriced pumpkins conveniently located beside a shopping center. I’ll take some cute pictures with my friends, and pretend I wasn’t melting while taking them. I can slide up the warmth on my photos using Adobe Lightroom: will that bring out the nonexistent auburn and crimson on the leaves? I’ll post them with a cute caption about how much I love autumn.
By the time I get home, the sun is still blazing. I slam my finger on the air conditioning pad, pressing it down as far as it can go, cranking it to a desperate 62 degrees. I kick off my sweat-soaked UGGs, strip down to my shorts, and quickly crawl under a thick woven blanket right in front of the vent. With the air blasting cold enough to freeze water, I take a sip of my melted pumpkin chai and scroll through Pinterest. The aroma of my pumpkin spice candle almost convinces me. It’s 103 degrees outside, but in my room, autumn has officially arrived.
