It’s graduation weekend. The dorm’s a mess. The kids are chomping at the bit to be gone. It’s too hot to be indoors. It’s too hot to be outdoors. I haven’t graded my exams. The dog is prostrate with heat exhaustion. Graduation is tomorrow. WildFire, the firespinning community I join from time to time, is going on now at a camp just ten miles and eighteen minutes down the road. I’m moving out in less than thirty days, and the place I’m moving to isn’t available until August 1. (Ben, can I borrow your couch for a while?)
And mostly I’m packing instead of doing things I should be doing, like grading papers and greeting parents. I’m sitting down and wondering why I’m not at WildFire… then I remember… oh, right, I’m moving in a few weeks and this is my last graduation.
The biggest thing in the way of my move, and I forget what it is constantly.
