Hashem... You made Ma my teacher for a reason, so please please don’t let anything bad come from it
The sun is shining through my shades and I feel oddly peaceful as I lay curled up under the sheets. Calm and happy and centered…. I just want to lie here, and omigosh, it’s the first day of school. I sit bolt upright in bed as a wave of nausea cascades over me.
For something I’ve been actively dreading all summer, I feel completely unprepared for the day ahead of me. At least picking an outfit is easy. My uniform has those knife-sharp, never-been-worn pleats, and the starched collar and soft sweater are invitingly perfect. I’m obsessed with my shoes; me and Debbi got the same ones, but who cares?
In ninth grade it would have been a state secret where I bought my shoes and now it’s like, the more the merrier, why should it bother me?
Maybe I’m just sooo mature.
I look in the mirror, swoop my hair into a scrunchie, and make a face. Then again, maybe not.
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