Having such a busy summer this year has thrown off my sense of time. In May/June, I was just trying to put on a wonderful Solstice event and get through my first six-week semester, and before I knew it, it was the end of June. Now, I’m trying to make it through this second six-week class, and before I know it, I’ll be mid-way through August, and summer will almost be over.
I didn’t realize just how much I had missed of summer when I was going through Marc’s yesterday, looking for baskets for some MK orders I was putting together. There are already displays for back-to-school shopping. I understand that all retailers are starting manufactured shopping excuses earlier and earlier, so I had to take my startling realization with a grain of salt.
I remember when school was my full-time profession and the how bittersweet it was to see back-to-school displays. It was the symbol of the end of free time and the start of drudgery for nine months; but I was always drunk with the idea of opening a fresh pack of pens, and the chemical smell when opening a brand-new notebook.
The Boy’s Mother is an elementary-school teacher, is beginning to get together for the beginning of the school year. I had to fight the urge to open her fresh pack of dry-erase markers in so many colors. My God! The possibilities: how many things could I write with all of these colors? What sort of notes can I take? How much more could I learn because I had color-designated particular ideas? And the notebooks: what sorts of new ideas can I generate in these pages?
I still get a thrill when I walk into an office supply store. Though now, in addition to the notebooks and pens, I hit more of the grown-up goodies: padfolios, business card cases, pen display cases and desk sets. …Every collection matures at some point.
Today, I wooed K to go with me to the major office supply stores towards the middle of August. She and I both share a love of office supplies (she’s as bad as I when it comes to tschochke-grabs). I’m sure that we will spend lots of time moseying quietly (and perhaps not-so-quietly) up and down every single aisle, thinking of all the possibilities a 36-pack of Sharpie markers (in both fine and bold tip) will bring.