I hated school as a child, but summer vacation still began to pall toward the beginning of August. All those wasted days languishing inside to soak up as much air conditioning as possible start to weigh on your soul. What seems like an eternity of school to summer to school cycle ends and you make the transformation into one of those creatures who is constantly surprised at the lightning fast passage of time. How did this happen? How do you reconsile the evidence of your childish senses with the reality of your adult perceptions? Easy, just enroll in school again.
Round about August cabin fever sets in and you start thinking of rhymes just to amuse yourself. Only you’re not a poet, and you damned well know it. You persist, slogging through language to blot out your mothers incessant chattering about nothing. You realize if you don’t get out of the house, you will surely go mad. When you try to leave the house it’s like gravity has reoriented and you keep getting sucked back in through your own front door…