There you are, minding your own summer business. Maybe you're drinking daiquiris on the beach. Maybe you're mowing the lawn for a couple bucks. Or maybe you're watching your lawncare guy mow your lawn for a couple of bucks.

Gmail pings. Could it be? Your summer fling scheduling a booty call so soon? And via email--how classy.

But no. It's the first warning sign that classes are coming. Granted, they're still three weeks away, but they're coming.

You read the email in a blur. Something about "I have activated Blackboard for our class" and "I have posted a list of the books that you will need for the class."

Sorry, Betsy Erkkila. Now that you've broken our spirits, no one is looking forward to American Lit Traditions.