The end of the school year has always been a universal source of joy for children. The last day of school is one of those rites of childhood, an unparalleled cause for celebration and has been the subject of school yard chants, Alice Cooper songs, and 90s stoner comedies set in the 70s. For me, my childhood was no different. From some time shortly after Easter I would begin counting down the days till school was out. The entire month of May was one big anticipatory celebration of the arrival of summer and freedom from the tyranny of school. School parties, field days, and relaxed dress codes filled the last days of school as the once rigid academic environment of school gave way to a free-for-all, where teachers ran out the clock and let us kids do as we please while they finished their end-of-term grading.
As an adult these joys associated with the end of the school year are nothing but a memory. In fact, for me the entire month of May has evolved from a source of anticipatory excitement into a cause of overwhelming dread. Alice Cooper’s anthem to the beginning of summer doesn’t come close to matching my feelings now; a dark Joni Mitchell ballad would probably be more appropriate, or perhaps a funeral dirge.
Type Slowly 