8/16/2021

I think I know why I tend to go a little nuts with back-to-school shopping.

When I was a kid, neither set of parents bought me clothes or other stuff very often. Maybe two-three outfits per year. But school shopping was different. Back then, teachers gave out these enormously expensive, super-long lists of supplies needed. So much that it was difficult to carry it all onto the bus and into school on the first day.

I remember that awe-struck, almost magical feeling I’d get on the night before school; my hand-picked supplies arranged in my bedroom floor - spread out in front of me in all their glory, newness, and reflection of my intellectual promise and worth.

Now, here I am, almost 37 years old, on the night before school.

I picked out a regular pink binder, one pack of paper, dividers with pockets, highlighters, pens, and two of my favorite brand of pencils. Then I found *THE* binder at Wal-mart. It’s kind of like the Trapper-Keeper I always wanted but never got. And I’m absolutely thrilled by it.

Gone are the days when my parents felt obligated to pretend-play a non-existent affection for me. But by God, I’mma spoil the shit outta myself, if only while getting the nice couple items I’ll need for this semester.

I am good. I am worthy. I am smart. I will be better than the low-to-no expectations my parents believed me capable of.

I’m gonna take care of me. I’m gonna be okay. I’m gonna be safe.