Oh October, where art thou? My sweaters and I have been parted for so long and my heart aches to be reunited. My creativity has been languishing in a sweaty room, begging to be let out into the fresh, crisp air so it may flex its muscles and begin my yearly Autumn writing. My white legs have seen enough of the sun, my eyes have grown tired of sunglasses, my head and hands and neck reminisce about the good ol' days when they had to be covered with fleece and crochet. The only one who can break the chains of summer is you, October. Don't worry about asking for one more shot of whiskey, you won't need it; pay your tab, jump on your horse, ride on over here, and whisk me away to winter!