The field of war is littered with squandered time and childhood naivete. Every completed series of finals takes something from us. Each time, a little more of our soul is cauterized and the thing we call “adult” is burned and smelted from the green and verdant forests of childhood. Eventually, this hollow machine of alloys and cynical behavior emerges and this we call, “Graduation”.
Ahh, it’s not so bad. But the finals are over and now Christmas is nearly here, and the old anticipation for all things festive can flourish- uninhibited by nagging sensations of diligence or work ethic.
Now if only I can recover from this cold. I’ve gotten a case of the sniffles it seems, but I think I’m already just past the halfway point of the illness. So I’m hoping for a return to health before long. But who knows. I might have pneumonia. I won’t be too presumptuous and just assume that whatever it is will soon abate.
As per the comic. We’re back in action and with our extra time, we hope to create a surplus to supply us through any times of trial we may henceforth encounter. Let’s keep our fingers crossed!
-Arrivederci!
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