Why is it, when I went to school, I had a brand new haircut
(for better or worse), new clothes, new notebooks, folders, pencils, and pens,
and a smile?
Or was I smiling for the camera then cried on the bus? Did I
really get a new haircut or did my mom just throw my hair up in pigtails and
slice my bangs with the kitchen shears?
No. I know I had
new pencils and notebooks. I’m sure of it because I can remember the smell of
the fresh pages (yes I sniffed my notebooks—paper smells awesome). I remember
having long, sharpened pencils with those pointy colored erasers popped on the
end. I think the rest of it must be true, too. I went off to school that first
day every year all prepared and shit. My mom made sure of it.
Crap. I am dreading the “transition” (AKA bad behavior at
home). Dreading the open house at school. Dreading parent / teacher talks.
Dreading meeting with the “team” about IEPs and 504 plans. Dreading dealing
with the administration. I wish someone would give me a poison apple. I would
so take a bite.
 |
| Princey... Be a dear and wake me up in a month. |
