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8/16/2021

Aug 16, 2021

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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.

Aug 16, 2021

1 min read

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