The month of May finally arrived bringing with it a slew of observances and special days.
And oh yeah, let's not forget Teacher Appreciation Day.
But every high school journalism adviser on the planet knows what the real month of May is all about.
May screams spring yearbook delivery. And we all know what that means. Panic. Sheer screaming panic, and not just any kind of panic, but a Freddy Krueger kind of panic.
May screams 5-alarm Hair-on-Fire! Hair-on-Fire! Hair-on-Fire! in four-part harmony.
It screams grab your passport, pack a bag and go underground–deep underground because somehow somewhere sometime in May there will be a yearbook adviser featured on the six o'clock news who somehow somewhere managed to completely ruin the life of someone somehow somewhere by something that was or wasn't on some yearbook page. I've written about my yearbook panic attacks before.
My 1,200 books are scheduled to arrive in just a few weeks giving me just enough time to get really wound up into a frenzy. Would someone please hand me a paper bag before I hyperventilate myself into unconsciousness?
My ship date is May 15–just one day after Dance Like A Chicken Day.
Rather ironic, don't you think?