When the first day of school was fraught with anxiety and anticipation. Every detail was fretted over, from my choice of shoes to which pencil cases as the RIGHT one for that school year. It was exciting, it was scary it was NEW. Forget Spring- Fall and the start of the new school year was all about rebirth/beginning anew. In early elementary school it was all about who your teacher was going to be and if your friends would be in your class. Which neighborhood kids would walk to school with you,  if the 6th graders would be nice.  The supplies and fashion were secondary… Though I can also remember almost every first day of school outfit I ever wore. Plaid and denim played such a major role in my elementary school wardrobe you might think I grew up in the country. As I got older the fashions and accessories became MUCH more important. As if the right outfit, sneakers and backpack would set the tone for the PERFECT school year- a balance of popularity, academic achievement and athletic prowess that I had yet to achieve. And never did, come to think of it.

This morning, on what was (give or take a few years when I wasn’t a student or an educator of some kind) my 22nd First Day of School I rolled out of bed at 7:20 (after snoozing Frank Ocean’s morning serenade for 45 minutes) made coffee, threw on my “uniform” (office appropriate wrap dress with bun and conservative for me lipstick) and rushed out the door. No anxiety, no anticipation. Excited, yes but not at all nervous. Have I figured out that there’s really nothing to worry about? Or have I figured out how little I am actually in control? Probably both.