It’s the first week of March — and once again, I am sitting on a throne of pins and needles that I am forced upon year after year. I don’t like it here. And frankly, I’m tired of it.
The seconds continue to tick past, marching forward toward my moment with destiny — which will happen on Friday afternoon at 3pm sharp.
That’s when the applications I filled out several weeks ago will be pulled out of their files. My children will be assigned random numbers and then one by one given seats at Springfield Prep.