The end of the school year is fast approaching, at something akin to light speed. I find myself in a familiar, if somewhat wretched place, wherein I am busier than I can handle, yet looking forward to the summer with a fierceness that borders on obsession.
I always try to prepare for June. I know it is there, the last hurdle before six weeks of freedom. It seems like no matter how hard I try to prepare, however, June is always able to beat the holy hell out of me. I think it is wretchedly unfair of June to wait until now to launch itself at me. I think I need to write a letter to whomever is in charge of the calendars and lodge a complaint.
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