You could always tell when school was about to reopen by the booklets and flyers that big supermarket chains distribute, detailing lists of offers that they had.
As a kid (a rather studious one, too) I’d welcome the new season. After all, you can only have so much fun with your relatives and cousins before you get tired of well, being a good boy all the time. Homework, if any (vacations used to be in the middle of the academic session where I lived) would be done pretty early. So no inner feelings of apprehension or guilt there. I couldn’t wait to meet my friends and tell them about the latest fad I’d blindly followed in the summer, or that awesome Sci fi movies and get on with our cricket and throwball.
However as I grew older, I began to slack a lot more. The excitement of meeting your pals was still there but consternation regarding all those partly completed work was always there in the back ground. I remember sitting in class on the day school reopened, still reliving the mischief that I’d been up to with the cousins and wondering how things ended so fast, even beginning to count the number of days left till the weekend! And as I progressed further higher up, these questions and regrets compounded, especially with the weight of academic pressure and competition bogging me down. Ah silly Lil me. It’s funny sometimes looking back, wondering how much importance I set store for ultimately insignificant stuff.
Not that things have changed though. I’m all set to join grad school in a couple of weeks and having had a longer break than usual, I worry
that I’ve forgotten everything and I’ll be found out by the new professors. Am I in trouble?