Dear Followers of the Cult of Fall,

I have put up with your nonsensical love of this mediocre season for long enough. Fall is the second-worst season only just above winter so, like everything else does during autumn, please let this enthusiasm die.

By far the most perplexing thing I’ve heard is a longing for it to get cold. I left the Northeast for New Orleans to escape the cold and let my bitter heart thaw, but you fools beg for it and so now you’ll bear the brunt of my bitterness.

From what I understand, people want it to be cold enough to wear sweaters and scarves, so they can be “cozy.” All sweaters are ugly sweaters, and make people look like tiny grandparents. Mummifying yourself in a scarf isn’t fashionable. Your neck can’t be that cold. What is this obsession with layers? I barely have time to throw on shorts and a T-shirt before dragging my raggedy self to class. I don’t need you people showing me up even more with these elaborate onions of outfits composed of about five different things to keep your torso warm.

I’ve also heard how excited people are to drink hot coffee and soup, which will feel “so nice” when it’s cold out. One: hot liquids are the devil, and two: sunlight. Sunlight feels nice. Burning my mouth on soup just makes me feel like one of those tiny grandparents slowly creeping towards a bitter demise.

Also, stop pretending pumpkin spice lattes taste like anything other than concentrated sugar. That’s not what a pumpkin tastes like; that’s what diabetes tastes like.

Possibly worst of all is sports season. I have to listen to dudes screaming at a TV every five seconds. Screaming at the game doesn’t impact the game fellas, it just reminds me I have very little in common with my father. What, too real?

It’s also dark all the time now. Remember summer, that glorious time when the sun stayed up until 9 p.m? Remember how nice that was? Now by 7 p.m. it’s pitch black, and there’s this ominous wind blowing trash around. Don’t let “American Beauty” make that seem artsy — garbage is garbage, only now it’s trying to fly into my mouth.

Some people claim the holidays are the best part of fall. Like Halloween, the holiday we spend $40 on a costume to vomit in. Or maybe they mean Thanksgiving, the one where we convince ourselves turkey isn’t the worst tasting bird, and our relatives remind us we’re single, haven’t figured out what we’re doing after college and that our other relatives are doing much better via dinner table interrogations. So fun.

So please, I’m begging you, shut up about fall. Your over-hyping of the season just makes it all the worse, especially because I’ll give it three weeks before I’m listening to all of you complain that you’re freezing, and can’t wait until one of the seasons that doesn’t turn everything into a barren wasteland comes.

Sincerely,

Shivering Cynic