How I Hate Revisions

The strangest thing showed up in the mail, well, I guess it’s not all that strange, but it’s an invitation to a university reunion taking place during Homecoming Weekend at Queen’s in Kingston.

For the most part, I hate rewriting. In fact, I hate most things that involve going back and re-doing what you’ve already done. Maybe it’s why I’ve never finished anything substantial in terms of my own writing—I have no trouble finishing up projects I’m assigned to do, so if someone assigned my own novel, told me I’d be graded, I’d probably finish it. But I’d never go back and re-write it, at least substantially, anyway.

And that’s sort of how I feel about class reunions. They had one at my high school a while back, and I didn’t go because, well, I’m just not all that interested in reliving my “glory days.” For the most part, they ended up with me being diseased, half-crazy and quite in need of serious amounts of therapy, which I didn’t receive until well after I’d finished university, where I’ll have to admit, the same pattern sort of repeated itself.

So I guess, with all the bad press high school and university got in the scope of my ever-longer life, it’s no wonder the last thing on earth I’d like to do is re-live it ten years later at a kegger during Homecoming. Am I wrong in thinking that way?