September 1 and Labor Day signal the end of summer and the start of fall. It’s the change in seasons that I love the most – crisp air, beautiful trees, apple picking, warm sweaters and leather boots. But it’s also the one that I dread the most – summer is over, life at my house gets crazy with three kids and my teacher husband back in school, and winter is getting closer. I know, I know – I live in Minnesota. I should be used to the snow, cold and ice by now. I should just roll with it. There really are thousands of things to do here in the winter – but it’s still hard to go from the sun, warm air and lighter schedule to cold, snow and busy weeks.

Over the weekend, I was asked for about the 200th time in the last two months, “How do you like your new job? Is it a lot different than working at General Mills?” I realized that my work life is a mirror for the seasons this year. Going from more than a decade in corporate America and a huge Fortune 100 company to a small, fast-paced agency of about 40 people has been even more of a change than I expected – in exciting and terrifying ways.

Like fall, I love the change – jeans anytime, an exciting variety of clients to meet, ridiculously smart and creative people, an entrepreneurial spirit, decisions being made on the spot (though not without consideration), and designers to make my presentations look amazing.

But change is hard – just like the shift from summer to fall – having to work to build trust and confidence again, not having a set “lunch buddy,” and learning everyone’s names — which is really hard when no one sits in the same place from day to day.

But once I get used to it, there’s a lot to love – growing up a figure skater, I look forward to skating on one of a million sheets of ice. Downhill skiing is definitely one of my favorite things to do and any excuse to curl up in front of the fire with a hot latte or a glass of spiced wine is welcome.

So as I watch the leaves start to fall from the trees, I’m excited about the change, but also look forward to the time when it feels a little more like a warm cup of coffee in front of the fireplace and less like a blast of cold wind in my face.