I started to get antsy toward the end of September. It was still hot outside with no reprieve in sight. I’m so ready for fall. I have not lived in a place that has a real autumn in over four years, but now I do. I’m in desperate need of a season change. I long for the leaves to turn colors, the night air to crisp, and the smell of a distant bonfire after a football game. I have lived without these things for so long I have almost forgotten what fall is like. There was one thing, though, that helped me through each year I was stationed on a beach and that, my friends, was the Pumpkin Spice Latte, also known as PSL.
From the moment I receive the email notification that PSL is back, I am immediately transported to a pumpkin patch in my mind. I can’t put my yoga pants on fast enough (Who am I kidding? They are already on.) and get in line for the long awaited brew. With each sip, I can hear the roaring of the crowd on homecoming night, and the possibility of drinking it iced keeps me from breaking into a sweat in the infinity scarf I threw on to make it look like it’s fall outside.
PSL, how do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee from the very first sip of whip with pumpkin spice topping to the last drop of diluted espresso steamed milk.
I love thee freely, but I’m also happy to pay $4.95 for your deliciousness each and every day.
I love thee purely, though I also loved you when you did not contain any actual pumpkin. Your spices are what make you YOU, and I wouldn’t have you any other way.
I love the way you make my yoga pants fit a little tighter each time we meet; it’s like a warm hug for my legs all day long.
I love the way you can turn any day into an autumn day.
I cannot stand to be without you so I’ve begun incorporating your flavors in all aspects of my life from lotions and candles to everyday food items. Pumpkin spice waffles for breakfast – check. Pumpkin spice lactation cookies at lunch – check. Pumpkin spice dry rub steak for dinner – you know I’ll try it.
PSL, my love for you is unwavering no matter how basic you make me. Haters are going to hate, but you can count on me with my messy bun and kids in tow to drink you every day.
Love Mallory Morris
PSL, why do I hate thee? Let me explain.
Fall is my favorite part of the year: the weather, the football, the clothes, the food, the decorations — everything. When I walk into a craft store and see all of the pumpkins, my heart jumps for joy. And pumpkin patches? Yes, I will totally go on a hayride, let my kids run around with farm animals, and then pick out the perfect pumpkin to go with the ten I have already placed on my front porch.
But when fall rolls around, I have a dirty little secret that I haven’t told many people until now. I haven’t set my secret free because I’m afraid I will be shamed. However, I cannot hold it in any longer. I HATE pumpkin spice lattes.
It feels so good to get that out.
The minute September starts, I start seeing multiple Instagram posts and Facebook posts about the PSL, and I just can’t.
I wear yoga pants and oversized sweatshirts on occasion, and sometimes I even have a baseball cap on because I haven’t washed my hair in days (To be honest, the hat happens more than I would like to admit). It would only make since that I also love pumpkin spice lattes.
Just me and my ‘basic’ clothes with my ‘basic’ drink taking pictures to post on Instagram about my totally ‘basic’ day.
While the pumpkin spice latte has been around for a while, I hadn’t actually tried one until last year. It was the first week of October, the air was crisp and the leaves were starting to change here in Colorado. It seemed like the perfect day to try the perfect fall drink.
I was excited to join the PSL cult.
So, when the barista handed over my drink, I couldn’t wait to try it. I had planned to walk around with it in my hand making sure everyone I passed saw that I, too, was made of all things fall.
But then, I took that first sip. I was immediately confused. There’s no way that was a true PSL. Maybe they got the formula wrong and put a huge pump of their newest flavored syrup, sweaty jockstrap.
I took another sip just in case my mind was playing tricks on me but it just got worse. PSL cult, you can keep your drink and continue vomiting pictures of it everywhere on social media. I’ll stick to my chai latte, that I can get any time of the year.