What is it about the first day of school? It somehow has managed to haunt me, and those of you who know me well know that nothing haunts me. Nothing lessso than school. In fact, school is pretty silly if you ask me, which you are threatening to do, should you continue to read MY post. Yet the first day is relentless in its nagging, haunting haughtiness. (Was that too many h’s, a’s, u’s, n’s, g’s and i’s for two words so intimately used?) Frankly, the fact that it bores so deeply into my stomach, leaving little room for tea and something to help the tea make me happy, well, frankly, it just gets my goat. I do not want to be the A-personality ’student’ with a stick lodged ever-so disagreeably in my haunches. And though I would have both vim and pep — and a buzzing demeanor — all thanks to high-caffeine and sugar stuffs, the limp garbage bags draped beneath my eyes and the anti-climax of my zippity-doo-da-dosage of morning uppers leaving me depressed and sallow are, neither of them, character traits I would embrace in another person, let alone in myself.
I just want to be happy. I am (naïvly) awaiting a year full of cunning proffesors and wits and guile and stupid shit like that, but I’m sure to be disapointed. I expect to find a classroom full of the pill-popping, swash-buckling Starbucklers wearing clothes like there was no tomorrow for American Eagle.
I hope that the rest of you guys have great experiences in all of your classes, with all of your prof’s (Oh, lord, I’m tired of that word already,) and all of your peers. But hope is like tea: if you let it stew too long, let it get too strong, it just goes bad.
I dunno, I found the guy walking his dog on the dike that night pretty haunting. And I wasn’t the one who screamed.