Journal Entry #78

This is a little blurb I wrote.

Monday, March 15, 2010
I hate Mondays. And with declarations like this one, my mind wanders to the fact that Garfield and myself are truly, very similar. We both have ginger coats, we both love lasagna, and we both have this dually singular loathing for the first day of the week. But, that’s not the point. I hate Mondays, this one in particular, because it is the first day of school after Spring Break. They taunt us, allowing us but one taste of what life without school would be like, a life in the sun. We still have fifty days of school, and everyday, every period, even during lunch, I dream of all the things I could do with the time I’m wasting by daydreaming about the things I could do. And so, I’ve come to the conclusion that summer has a certain psyche, if you will, about it. Especially in a place where half of the year is spent in the dismal world of winter where we must survive like bats, clinging to the hope of one day seeing the sun again. You can’t help dreaming of summer days because of the distasteful things they force upon us. For example, just as the sun peaks above the mountains they allow us a week of freedom, a week when you can sleep until you are awaken by the light of the sun gently caressing your cheek. And then BOOM! Darkness, blackness, dull comprehension of your surroundings and what time it is. This is the torture the school board puts us through. And now, when the end of school is so close yet so far, they have the nerve to expect us to pay attention. Summer. Ah, beautiful lady come and sit beside me once more! Come, warm our hearts and tan our skin. You are like a long-lost lover who must go away when ice cages us every winter. Dear summer, if only you could stay and make the flowers blossom year round! *cough* Sorry, as I was saying, summer has a sort of psyche that makes us lose it. You see, she, I mean it, comes around and we can do whatever. Ya know? Soccer, gardening, camps, sleep, we can do it all! And then, just when we learn to control our longing for more things to do (as not to get overwhelmed), it leaves and the sun goes away and the snow falls and the ice covers the roads wishing us harm in every sense of the word and... and... and then we are PLUNGED INTO THE DARKNESS THAT GRIPS OUR SOULS AND SQUEEZES UNTIL THE VERY LAST DROP OF SANITY IS DRAINED!!! *ahem* Yeah, it does stuff... to your mind.
Sincerely,
Your-once-sane-self.

-M


M Word of the Post that doesn't start with the letter M

quince-n. a hard, acid, pear-shaped fruit used in preserves or as flavoring; the shurb or small tree that bears this fruit, native to western Asia