Thunderwood

Summer is blooming. Or, rather, it's sort of overgrowing its little vegetable garden. The southeast haze is hanging low and the sun doesn't go down until nine. I guess that's normal at the beginning of July... but that doesn't make the situation any less irritating for a person like me.

The main reasons why I'm not really digging summer:

1. It's hot. That means that hot coffee doesn't seem as relaxing. It means I sweat more. It means there are mosquitoes.
2. I'm bored. Days slip by like something gooey and oozing slides down a hill.
3. School starts in the middle of the summer this year. August 9. Who, in all of the name of the holy Universe, decides to start school on August 9? As though August 16 weren't early enough?

My old school didn't start all that early.
I went to a private middle school. It was tiny and cute and I knew every single person of the eighty-six that went there. I had to wear a uniform. I wasn't allowed to wear make-up or earrings or have my hair down. (That was the only bad part.) I liked that school a lot. The kids weren't like other kids. They were considerate and they listened to what others had to say. It was all about developing opinions and sharing thoughts.

So I graduated this past May, and now I'm off to big bad public-school high school. Like the rather unintelligent newbie to the world I am.

In the month I have left before being thrown back into purgatory, I'll drink lots of iced coffee and read a bunch of English literature. That should keep me in an effective state of euphoria before I have to face real life again.