I HATE this time of year.
Back to school.
They take all the great summer stuff out of Target and replace it with Trapper Keepers and pencil sets. As if we don’t know what it’s for, they have to add banners everywhere with school buses and bad handwriting reminding us that summer is over. And THEN pictures of smiling, excited children to try and sell the idea that going back to school is so much fun!
Well it’s not fun.
I’ve got friends who insist that they always loved going Back to School shopping, and I simply don’t believe them.
“But didn’t you enjoy getting new school supplies every year?” they ask.
“No. I enjoyed getting a new swimsuit every year.”
I never liked school. College was great, but the 13 years of my life leading up to that: miserable.
I was a painfully shy kid. And I’m not being hyperbolic here: I literally felt pain in my chest and my head when approached by someone new, or (God forbid) asked to speak in front of others. (Later in college I would learn that this pain is called anxiety and that I have a lovely little thing called an Anxiety Disorder, but that’s for another day.)
Texas history for 4 years in a row? Been there done that, boring.
Fractions? Some sort of sick joke, boring.
The scientific method? Predictable, boring.
The only things I really liked were art, reading and creative writing (shocker). I’d pretty much spend the rest of the time pretending to pay attention, but really letting my imagination run wild with things I’d rather be doing, like hunting dinosaurs or talking to ghosts.
And let me just comment on PE real quick:
Boys against girls dodge ball games were the absolute worse idea anyone in the history of physical education has ever had, and seemed to be the only thing my “coach” knew to do. Typically I’d hang out in the back behind the bigger kids for like 5 minutes, then just go and sit down claiming to be “out.”
Hey, it was better than being bombed in the nose with one of those plastic balls.
These are the memories that come to my mind when I see a new line of backpacks thrust in my face. Hours and hours of boredom surrounded by people I was too anxious to interact with. Also, the frustration of lending someone a pencil only to have it returned covered in bite marks like a damn beaver had gotten a hold of it.
Children of America I’m sorry for your loss of freedom and summer. I’ll pour one out for ya as you pass me in a Yellow Dog on your way to institutionalization. Be strong, stay a live and don’t forget to fight for your right to party.
In the meantime, Target, can you just go ahead and bring out the Halloween stuff already?
Thanks for reading! =)