The Last Week

In six day's time, school resumes. Yet, amidst the excitement of new prospects of a fresh fall semester can offer, there's a palpable melancholy atmosphere hanging in the air that I just can't shake. It's intimidating, daunting, and instills doubt to all the plans I, we, or whomever, have planned for the next few months. "The best laid plans are of mice and men" - is that what I'm saying here? Perhaps not, since I have but a slight understanding of the phrase here. But I digress; I'm always digressing, aren't I? Anyhow, I'm possessing this feeling that we - you, me, and whomever wants to join our little group therapy session - are not truly prepared for what's to come, despite all the effort to meticulously plan every single little snippet of our plans. Now, I'm not saying it will fail; I'm saying that we will have to endure trials and tribulations before we are acclimated to a steady pace in which we can carry out our plans auspaciously. I know this sounds so egregiously cynical and pessimistic, spending the last week of summer vacation engrossed in this tirade when it should be spent preparing the mind, body, heart, and soul for sleepless nights, broken hearts, and top ramen soup.