The holidays are in full swim now, it's only early August, yet I started getting advertisement for it. I receive promo emails, I see messages online and on the high street: it's "Back to School". I hated it as a child. It used to spoil the last week of the holidays. That's why for years, I associated the month of August with blues. Now that I am a grownup, it hasn't changed: it's like I'm receiving a shot of uber potent melancholy in the veins every time I read that dreaded message. I can smell it, even: it smells of paper, pencils and cardboard. You know the smell. Read the title of this post, I dare you, and tell me in the comments if you can smell it, see it, feel it. I feel sorry for Wolfie: I want him to enjoy his time off, not worry about the coming school year. That's a parent's job.
Blogue d'un québécois expatrié en Angleterre. Comme toute forme d'autobiographie est constituée d'une large part de fiction, j'ai décidé de nommer le blogue Vraie Fiction.
I used to work in retail (a miserable two year stint) and they are always working six months in advance. I hate it when the Christmas stuff is in the stores from the middle of September. Although I'm pleased to see Fall stuff out in August!
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