The onslaught of back-to-school commercials caused me, last night, to reflect on the horror that is grade school. Every year, I have a friend or two who laments their loss of summer vacation upon having entered the work world. I have a similar and opposite reaction to commercials reflecting the vacation’s end. I can’t begin to tell you how happy I am to say that there will be no earth-shattering day for me at the end of August. A day where every single thing is new and I have to figure out where to go, where to sit, where to keep my stuff, meet 8ish new bosses and do all of this while maneuvering the hellish underworld of tween society and puberty.
It’s not that I didn’t love childhood. It’s just that if a genie was like, “Hey, you’ve got two choices, you can either be 8 or 48”, that would be the meanest genie ever and I would definitely pick 48.