The school year officially started today, when I attended my first meeting in preparation for the new class sessions which begin next week. My sons go back a week from Monday, and then I return to graduate school at the end of the month.
Sweet summer, relaxing summer, will be left behind in the wake of all the things to be done, the effort of constantly keeping track of everyone's day, each person's schedule of obligations, homework, housework, work work. The new season is upon us, and while it has its attractive points--the smell of new books and pencils, the eagerness of the students and teachers, the lovely atmosphere of hope pervading the halls--it is also frightening. I always end up promising, "This will NOT be as chaotic as last year; I will not do that again." And then of course I get immersed, and it's just as crazy as ever.
Still, I can't imagine not being in a school when fall begins. I've been going back to school in September since 1970, either as a student or a teacher, and I'd probably feel a sense of loss if I had to go someplace else, to some other job. Unless that job was being independently wealthy and reading books all day--that one I could probably handle. :)
The toughest thing is that there is less time to write, but there's a way to do even that if one budgets time. The older I get, the more I realize how costly wasted time really is, and it helps me to put things in order, to push, to achieve.
So here's to the new school year!