You would think, with a mere 18 days of school left in the year, I would be rather chipper. But for the second late spring in a row, I've got the blues.
For many, many years I sort of peaked in happiness on June 8 every year. I began celebrating June 8 on the day I got out of middle school for the final time. That was June 8. Just about 40 years ago. It's funny how long that date hung with me as I went on in life.You see, I hated middle school with the white hot passion of 10,000 suns. This makes me pretty average, I think.
Spare was born on June 1, so I guess that sort of put a little damper on June 8. We always have a nice little party for Spare, and sometimes I overlook Middle School Liberation Day a week later.
Other events in the interim have made the first week of June less a celebration than a moment of mourning. Although this bluesy feeling has nothing to do with putting newspaper on my classroom bulletin board so it doesn't get messed up for the summer, it's kind of gotten linked in my mind with that activity.
I'm wondering how long this new feeling will last. Hopefully not 40 years. Nah, wait a minute. In order for it to last 40 years, I'll have to be creeping up on 100.
Here's one thing I'll say. Even if you really want to be a wonderful person, and nice all the time, sometimes life just doesn't let you be that way. If the meek inherit the Earth, they deserve it. Try living a long life meek every single moment of the time. Jesus Christ didn't make it to 35.
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