April is supposed to be a happy time – warm weather, summer on the horizon, girls in sundresses. Things are wrapping up, and people are getting ready to go on vacation. But the last gasp of school is the absolute worst. Organized, responsible people might not be able to sympathize, but for me April is my least favorite month of the year. The weather IS nice, but I have to look at it through the window as I pore over textbooks, write huge papers, and scattered notes. Unlike midterms, all the exams and paper due dates are clumped together, and there’s no room for error. Once finals are done, that’s it. If you screw up, there’s no going back.
Also, for some reason my body thinks that April is a fantastic time to get sick. Every year, November through February is a breeze, but then remembers its yearly quota of miserable coughing and achiness, so it desperately tries to make up for lost time. There’s nothing better than sitting at a desk cluttered with notebooks, Dayquil packets, tissues, and Red Bull, only to look outside and see your friends headed to play football.
I have a ton of plans for an awesome summer, and I’m done in less than two weeks, but it seems a lifetime away. I think that April is designed to get people in the mood for summer to make sure that they appreciate it. Just in case anyone is thinking of cruising through the last couple of weeks, April is right there to knock them off their feet and remind them exactly what they’ll be free of for four months.
So screw you, April – eight more days and I’ll be rid of you!