1. As a kid, I was always happy to go back to school. The only “intellectual stimulation” I could find all summer came from reading, and I wasn’t always allowed to read as much as I wanted. As I got older, the end of summer usually coincided with being really tired of my summer job and grateful for the excuse to leave it.

    Now I don’t care much, since my life belongs to me. I shall try to enjoy the fall, and when it gets too nasty to go out, I don’t have to.


  2. A little if both. It got less exciting the older I got. Now, I think the end of the summer is a little sad, because it means our lazy, less-structured days are over and cold weather is coming.


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