Last week began a new semester at school and I was saddened to discover that one of my favorite fellow students had not returned. T. started the same time I did and we quickly became friends despite the fact she’s my daughter’s age. Which on second thought isn’t so odd since Daughter is one of my best friends. T. is the classmate who joined our family’s Mother’s Day celebration in That’s the word on the street, and suffered along with me the first semester with Mr. Magoo in Down the Rabbit Hole. We have a history.
T. gave me a heads up that she probably wouldn’t be back via a phone call at the end of last semester. Truth be told, she was doing way better than me in school progress. Where I began each semester still in Group D with the beginners, T. had advanced to the B group and seemed destined to actually finish in the advertised two-year period, a distant fantasy for me. But after a year and a half, she was sick of the stress and pressure and unable to see herself following this career path into the future. I felt sad and sorry, but that was about me knowing I’d miss her. For her I feel only supportive.
Now a fresh fall term has arrived and I must console myself with the flock of incoming students, a bevy of Britney/Beyonce clones with an Amy Winehouse or two all searching for meaningful mirror time in the ladies room. The ladies room is a two-seater and beyond tiny. If you swing open a stall door when exiting, you could injure someone standing at the sink. Our school used to be primarily female, but now we have a percentage of young guys as well. So we’ve lost the luxury of spilling over into the men’s room when the torrent of head-tossed hair creates a crowd too wild to manage next door.
For some reason, the doors to both bathrooms are never closed and the lights rarely on and everyone seems okay with that. I guess the lights being off compensate for the clear view inside. The first day back, one of my teachers asked me if I had practiced my studies at home over the break and I told her I tried to recreate my day at school as closely as possible. I started with an hour of review, followed by an hour of assigned homework, and finally an intense practice period. Then I finished up by peeing in the dark with the door open. It’s all about the routine.
Daughter’s Featured Fotos uncover Things that Go Together
red crayons and pigeons
rabbit bus
blowup dinosaurs in offices at night
treehouse and empire state