Sluttish Time

(No, I didn't invent the title, it's from Shakespeare's Sonnet fifty-five.)

Today I realized that on Tuesday it will be two weeks until I'm gone.

Shakespeare was right on for a lot of stuff. Including about time and "all the world's a stage" and things.

Time is making me confused. The passing of time is a strange thing. What is time? I don't think there's a definition. If time is a collection of seconds and minutes and hours, what are seconds and minutes and hours? They are ways of measuring time. And time is...well, you get the idea. Chicken and the egg kind of thing.

And so suddenly I've got three days left of school and I'm getting my report card soon and my uncle is arriving from New York and it's officially going to be summer on Thursday and I have to say goodbye to my friends here.

My life is bonkers. But then, it always was.

Incorporation

We had a quiz on Shakespeare's Sonnet XVIII (18 for those who can't read Roman numerals), which was a veritable piece of cake. However, before that, the entire class was freaking out. At the end of math, someone was asking me if I had a summary for it. "I don't know," I said relaxedly, "I didn't study."

"Well, you don't need to," they said.

"Of course she doesn't, she's pretty much Shakespeare-Obsessed, Inc."

Well...there you go. That says it all.

Though I suppose, if I am Shakespeare-Obsessed, Inc. then I am also Doctor Who-Obsessed, Inc. and Harry Potter-Obsessed, Inc. and A Lot Of Things-Obsessed, Inc. Obsessions are my thing.