The (Lack of a) Point in Summer School.

The School of Sarcasm Reveals the AWFUL Truth...

Ahhh, summer.  The time of year for students to sit back, relax and enjoy the lazy days of the year.  Right?  WRONG!
Didn't you know of the ongoing conspiracy to rob students blind of any relax time they've got?  It's true.  You think you're safe?  Try again, bub.  I'm talking summer school, kiddos, and it's time to teach you what it's all about.  So sit down, shut up and listen good.
"Summer school only lasts two weeks out of a three-month period!"  You really think so?  Let's fill your clueless behind in on the details: summer school takes up 2 years of your three-month vacation.  How is that possible?  Easy.  You literally age two years while you're sitting in a very uncomfortable desk waiting for someone to give you something constructive to do.  And while the teacher passes out worksheets that are on the third-grade level (and laughing uproariously at the pale sheen they see on the students' faces), your only thought is, not of the lazy days that are wasting outdoors, but where you can find an uzi and quick.  Heaven forbid they actually give you something to test your braincells.  Oh, no, not for YOU.  They'll make sure you suffer through a mind-rending torture that tests the limits of even the smoothest student in history.
"How is that possible?!"  Case in point: you get a worksheet every two-hours with a fifteen-minute break in between starting from seven and ending at four with a one-hour lunch break at eleven.  That's four worksheets (FOUR) in a ten-hour period.  Guess how long it takes to finish those worksheets.  Fifteen to twenty-five minutes.  So you spend fully one hour and forty minutes max in that ten-hour period actually doing any work (if you can call that work).  What do you do the rest of the time?  Read.  Read like you've never read before!  Read until you almost go blind!  READ READ READ until you're ready to RIP SOMEONE'S HEAD OFF!  Don't get me wrong, I love to read.  But when I finish six books in two weeks, there is something VERY wrong.  I was literally averaging 80 pages during each half of the day.  That's an average of 160 pages per day.  That's less than two days to finish a 300 page book.  I finished Ender's Game, King's Dragon, The Cheetah Chase, Demons Don't Dream, Centaur Isle, Ender's Shadow and half of Night Mare in that two-week period.  Do you have any idea how torturous that is?  By the end of the day, my eyes were so blurry I couldn't see any road signs.  And they hurt.  Gods, did they hurt.  Even today, when I read too much, my eyes get strange and they hurt like hell.
And to top it all off, your friend gets to come in during the LAST week and do (of all things) art.  Art.  One of the easiest and yet most constructive classes since Theater.  And when she joins you for lunch, she gabbles on about what lame-brained art project she messed around with while you were reading yourself into needing a pair of glasses, only punctuated by third-grade-level worksheets that your dog could get an A on and the five-minute interval it takes to grade them.  And then, after an hour, your back to pressing you're nose to the painfully slow grinder.
"You're just jealous your friend got to do art and you didn't!"  You're damn right I am.  I'm pissed off that I was forced to waste my time when, after every fifteen-minute worksheet, I could have padded across the hall and been honing my artistic skills.  DOWN WITH THE SUMMER SCHOOL HEATHENS and UP with their enemies!

This rant and The School of Sarcasm is all mine.  If you even THINK about taking it without permission, I'll rip you a couple new holes, got it?