Aug. 14, 1996
I
was rudely awakened today when I received an e-mail from a former student informing me that
there were only 3 WEEKS LEFT UNTIL THE FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL!! This jarring
revelation immediately explained the familiar phenomenon which crept up on me last week while
vacationing in Hawaii: I call it the "Back-to-School Syndrome."
I have spent 34 out of the
last 41 Septembers sitting in a classroom, filled with anticipation and regulated by bells. Even
though I have stood at the front of the room, facing the students, for the last 18 of those
Septembers, I am still infected with the almost uncontrollable desire to buy "school clothes" and
"school shoes" and plain old "school stuff." Like a lemming drawn to the sea, I am drawn to those
cheesy signs that clutter every shop window and mall, screaming
I
thrill at the smell of leather, ignoring the pain of stiff shoes in order to bask in their newness. I
smile radiantly when complimented by fellow teachers and parents on my fall wardrobe, blocking
out the fact that within 3 months they and I alike will be sick of seeing the same 5 or so outfits.
Although my clothes eventually look shop-worn and dismal, my fall shopping frenzy provides me
with enough items to last until March or April, when I am overcome by the "Spring-has-Sprung
Syndrome" and suddenly forced to bulk-buy lightweight clothes and comfortable sandals,
eschewing somber earth tones for summery pastels. If only grocery shopping could be this simple.
