My semester is officially over. Now it is time to indulge in some quality fiction reading (see: Updike, John) and general laziness for the next ten days. Then, my very first Maymester. Yes, I am popping my summer school cherry.
Despite my status as a full-time student, I think it is only fair to admit that I am an old woman. I came to this conclusion the other day in the stairwell of my office some time around 5:15. There I stood, in my ankle length black dress adorned with three (yes, three) broaches holding my Le Sportsac purse, stressed about being able to fulfill a variety of commitments simultaneously. The stress won and drew a few tears. I fumbled through my purse, withdrew an Easter-print tissue, and dabbed my eyes. That's right. I dabbed my eyes with a festive Kleenex. Then I went to an Etta James concert.
Also: if you don't believe in sex after 60, attend an Etta James concert.
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