It’s almost the end of the semester. It’s a notoriously busy time when every teacher suddenly remembers all of the things he or she is supposed to cram into a semester and starts to panic because WHAT IF WE MISS SOMETHING? Chaos ensues. It’s a special time.

Do you know what the end of the semester means?

It means reading.

It means reading. And by reading, I mean drinking coffee at the library.

It means balance. Some of us are better at that than others.

It means you’ve gotta focus. No partying allowed.

It means you’ve gotta hold on. Hold on for one more day. Or 21, depending on how far away summer is.

It means you’ve gotta be ready for anything… even the self-timer.

It means you find refuge where you can. A good place to look is outside of Red Lobster.

It means rocky terrain. It means you might stub your toe. Rub some dirt in it.

It means delirium. Delirium means fish tattoos. Welcome to college, baby.

But most of all…

It means you’ve just gotta do what you gotta do.


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