The weather in San Francisco is an entity unto itself. Drive ten miles north or south and it is ten degrees warmer. This summer when I flew to Chicago, I thought, “Awesome! I’ll get some color.” The I remembered I lived in California. Weird.
These past few days here have been what some might call dreary. Summer comes in September in San Francisco so maybe this is summer saying, “So long, farewell, Auf Wiedersehen, Goodnight.” The chill in the air is the type that sneaks beneath collars and nips at heels. I shiver, not because it is so cold, but because of the type of cold.
Not to be cliché, but a pumpkin spice type of cold.
But I like it. It’s perfect sleeping weather and there is nothing better than waking up and hearing rain…on the weekend. 😉 Oh weekend, where for art thou, weekend?Adieu, Adieu, to You and You and You,
PS Lest my camera skills (or lack there of) or my my photographs of snippits of my apartment have you thinking, I have this whole adulthood thing down, I leave you with this, a much more apt metaphor for the state of things:Btw, succulents are supposedly impossible to kill. Well, I’ve always been an overachiever. I guess?