The school is reclaiming my camera within the week.

I love my camera. It's a Nikon D50. I don't know what kind of hell it went through before I got it--the autofocus never did work (it only hissed and clicked and sounded like the end of the world), the lens is far too prone to popping out, and every one of the dials and buttons sticks. Its treatment at my own unutterably clumsy hands has been, if not more gentle, more respectful, I think. Hell, I love that camera. I stand up ridiculously straight, even when I'm not carrying it, to compensate for the weight on my neck. It feels like an extension of my arms, an add-on to my eyes.

And I have to give it back.

I'm a graduating senior this year. There's no way I could borrow it over the summer--it's an expensive piece of equipment, and they have no guarantee that I would bring it back. And they're so goddamn expensive. I have the money, but I'm going to need it next year for college--and anyways, I don't know nearly enough about photography to be able to handle that much camera.

Still. It feels like I'm chopping off my hand and putting out one of my eyes.