Another bouquet of freshly sharpened pencils...

... is blooming in my pencil cup. Fresh crayons have sprouted in my cupboards, and whole sheaves of construction paper have rained down on my classroom. God, I love school supplies. I love the smell from a box of manila folders when you first open it - musty paper pulp, mmmm. I must have been a termite in a previous life.

School starts in a week. I've almost finished moving into my new classroom. New desks have been arranged in a double semicircle, new blackboards are waiting to be christened with chalk, and graffiti-free bulletin boards await dressing with brightly-colored paper and posters. The newly laid linoleum floors are free of scuffs and scrapes, and have not yet developed the nasty yellow patina of wax along the baseboards. It's a fresh start for us all, teachers and students.

My personal fresh start is starting off the year as a smaller person. Fifty-three pounds of me have evaporated, gone to parts unknown, leaving a still large, but relatively thinner, version of myself. I'm uncertain of my reception, from the students and from some of the other staff members. Now I remember fully what adolescence was like: changed face, new body, neuroses about peer acceptance and fitting in.

I think I'll relate well with my charges this year. We have a lot in common.