It's me again. I know, long time no see, right? I guess that's mostly my fault. I did spend an awful lot of time with your cousins Winter and Spring Quarter. I even had a brief stint with Summer Quarter, but that didn't last long; he's much too short-tempered.
But here we are again. You and me. Me and You. Us and we. You were always my favorite, y'know? You came after such a nice, long break that I always felt ready to tackle anything you could throw at me. I was refreshed, rejuvenated. Nay; I was EAGER. Not to mention you take place during my favorite season. Watching all the leaves change on campus -- beautiful. Wearing cute little sweaters and scarves and boots -- comfy. Ah, Fall Quarter, we had some good times, you and I.
It is then with a heavy, um, fingers that I type this letter to you. I know your intentions were good. I know you only meant to entice me with your weekly papers, your brain-melting articles, your three-hour-long lectures. I know you only meant to shape me into a brighter, smarter student. Believe me, I get that. I really do. But this -- this just isn't working for me.
In the past, I was able to put my life on hold, so to speak, for you, Fall Quarter, and everyone else in your family. I was able to set aside my writing aspirations and social life in exchange for hours of studying and paper-writing and lecture-listening. Why the change, then? Why do I suddenly find myself merely glancing at lecture material the night before a test? Why do I suddenly find myself hastily scribbling down a 4-page paper the day it's due? Why do I suddenly find myself not at all caring what you think of me?
No, I'm really asking you. I was hoping you'd know. Did you get boring all of a sudden? I thought I saw some extra pounds sneak into those textbooks. You've stopped going to the on-campus gym, haven't you?
Never mind. It's over. I wash my hands of you, Fall Quarter. I have something better in my life now. I don't need YOU and YOUR time constraints and YOUR nagging and YOUR homework and YOUR paper-writing. I have my own stuff now, uh-huh. Yeah. And it's BETTER than you. I'm happy. Me and my story revisions? We're happy. They're the only deadlines I need.
Sorry I had to break this to you online. It hurts, I know. But hey, you totally embarrassed me when I had to read one of my horrifically and hurriedly written papers aloud. Payback is a b-touting witch, my friend.
Don't bother writing back. If you do have anything to say to me, say it through Winter Quarter. He was always so much better at buffering things than you.