As summer crawls toward its eventual demise and fall smacks us in the face with pumpkin-spiced everything, I find myself succumbing to what I like to call “fall fatigue.” It’s that special kind of tired where the sun disappears at 3 p.m. and suddenly, your body decides that basic tasks like blinking are too ambitious. And why not? There’s some actual science behind it, but I’ll spare you the journal article version. I’m no scientist—just a guy who’s tired of everything, especially running a mobile home park.
You see, sunlight is responsible for a lot more than just causing sunburns and making us feel guilty about staying inside all summer. Apparently, it triggers the production of serotonin and cortisol, two magical substances that not only wake you up but prevent you from screaming into the void. These neurotransmitters also conveniently vanish when the days start getting shorter, leaving you with the emotional range of a soggy sponge. Let’s not forget Vitamin D, which, despite its boring name, is critical for preventing us from slipping into an existential coma by 5 p.m.
Now, combine the inevitable fall serotonin crash with the delightful stress of managing a mobile home park, and it’s no wonder I’ve considered entering a long-term relationship with my couch. The trees may be losing their leaves, but I’m losing my will to fight the onslaught of tenant complaints, random inspections, and plumbing disasters that inevitably seem to coincide with the changing seasons. Fall fatigue? More like life fatigue.
Have you ever tried explaining to someone that their home being crooked is “just part of the charm” while the sun sets at noon and the air smells faintly of wet grass and despair? I don’t recommend it. The fall’s shorter days don’t just sap my serotonin—they seem to draw the life force directly from my very bones, making even the simplest tasks, like mediating an argument over who’s parking too close to whom, feel like I’m preparing for a triathlon.
But here’s the thing: as much as I want to curl into a ball and ride out the next six months in hibernation, there’s always a silver lining. For me, it comes in the form of a little something called Thesis Energy, which contains magical ingredients like TeaCrine. I don’t know what TeaCrine is, but it sounds a lot better than what I was previously relying on—desperation and truck stop coffee. Apparently, TeaCrine helps increase dopamine, the same chemical that makes you think it’s a good idea to smile at people or, you know, get out of bed. It might even make you believe the tenants aren’t that bad when they ask why the Wi-Fi doesn’t work on a cloudy day.
With Thesis Energy, I’ve managed to push through the infamous afternoon slump. And by push through, I mean I can occasionally attend to my mobile home park duties without fantasizing about selling everything and moving to a secluded island. This magical dopamine-boosting blend helps me muster enough energy to make it through the day—whether that means dealing with tenants complaining about their neighbor’s wind chimes or participating in my wife’s fall obsession with apple picking.
So, this fall, while everyone else is busy swooning over cozy sweaters and decorative gourds, I’ll be here, clutching my can of Thesis Energy like a life raft. Will it fix the stress of running a mobile home park? Absolutely not. But will it give me just enough of a boost to stop me from walking into the woods and becoming a recluse? You bet.
What are you looking forward to this fall? Because if it’s anything other than not losing your mind in a mobile home park, I envy you.
