Back to school

Today is the first day of school. For me, it's also my first day of teaching. I hope for my poor students' sake I don't slip into my usual nervous habit of fast talking —especially if any of them happen to hail from north of the Mason-Dixon line because, if there's one thing harder than trying to decipher what I'm trying to say beneath my Southern drawl, it's trying to decipher whatever I've said at light speed.

This morning I realized it had been more than two years since I had to pick out my first day of school outfit. But there was no lunch to pack, no bus to catch (granted, I haven't ridden the school bus since the eighth grade), no first day of school picture with forced grin and protest of "But Moooooooom!!" Instead there's a syllabus to print and make copies of (I have my own syllabus for Pete's sake!), a roster to check and double check, and hopes that my lesson plans will magically finish themselves.

I feel like Stanley Tucci in "The Devil Wears Prada" gives the best advice for today.

So I'm off to teach and terrify. Wish my students luck.