Sitting alone in the bleachers, I wait for the principal to give his “Welcome to middle school, blah, blah, you’re going to love it here, blah, blah” speech, wondering if any of the others pouring in will choose to sit by me.
Instead, they gather in groups, hugging, high-fiving, so caught up in their own social circle, unaware the principal waits for the crowd to quiet. Unaware of me. I wish they would shut up already so he can get on with his song and dance, and I can get out of here.
The basketball nets line the ceiling of the gym, a scoreboard at each end of the beige walls marred with black scuff marks. Why they need eight basketball nets inside the gym and all the ones outside, I don’t understand. It’s not like they can use all of them at the same time.
I scan the ceiling as the gym teacher expounds on how much fun the new P.E. program is, and how the kids will only be graded on participation. They know not all kids are athletes.
I wonder where the elusive climbing ropes hide. The ones that never fail to humiliate.
“Deodorant! There’s no such thing as too much deodorant,” she says, as the crowd chuckles.
I’ve had several nightmares where I’m unable to find my classes. I keep loosing the printout of my new schedule, and can’t remember the different room numbers I need to find. Why are kids forced to wonder all over a school, looking for where they’re supposed to be? Is it a lesson in directions? Is it a lesson in responsibility? Independence?
Tomorrow, I’ll be in my office, working on the my clients deals that have to close by month end. Tonight, I attended the middle school orientation for my son who is entering sixth grand in the fall.
Flashbacks. It was freaky.
Have you ever had a dream you are back in middle school or high school, and you can’t find your classes or remember your locker combination? Anyone want to tell me what they mean?
Jennifer Senhaji, Your Sweet and Spicy Romance Author. You can find me and all my links online at www.jennifersenhajiauthor.com