Monday, August 25, 2008


I got up earlier this morning to go to the bathroom, and was greeted by the familiar sound of the garbage truck. Looking up at the sleepy pink-blue sky, I was reminded of 8-count Crayola magic markers and those yellow wooden pencils that needed to be manually sharpened. I saw myself walking to the bus stop with my mother, doggedly reciting my multiplication table: "four times three is twelve. Four times four is sixteen." (And, as dogged as I was, I soon was able to do my math homework with ease--a first and only for me. Mother knows best.)

Today is the first day of school at both LSU and Longwood, and I am not among the crowds of rushed college students running to my first class, dragging on my left shoulder an overstuffed messenger bag. Instead, I sit here in my pajamas writing this blog entry. Yet, despite all the nostalgia of the morning, despite the reverie, something feels strangely calm and right about this situation.

1 comment:

erica said...

I feel that way too. The first day of school was so crazy/fun/hectic, but I kind of like the fact that I've aged beyond it, at least as a student. I guess I'll go through it as a parent and perhaps as a prof someday!