Back to School, as Told by Michael Scott

Stores: Parents, pick up stuff for all the kids with our half-off back to school sale!

Me:

Hi-ho everyone!

While all the other bloggers are being their extra-cute and positive selves by sharing their back to school DIYs and encouraging words to get you through this year, I am here to balance it out by reminding you of the long, dark, and fiery trek ahead of you. Otherwise known as the American school year. (For most, anyway.)

Everyone's got that first day of school. Back in kindergarten, it was the most exciting thing ever--the super nice teachers (well, sometimes); the big, new cafeteria (though Lord help the poor souls that tasted that food for the first time); the litter of kids all your own age (many of which you were sick of before the first hour was up) But it was still very enjoyable. Through the rest of elementary school, it wasn't as exciting, but you were still excited to meet your new teacher, sit at your new desk, and enjoy your new grade level as once again you chided the lower grades for being so immature and unenlightened.

By middle school, you'd hit that emo/dark-ish/general "I-know-everything-so-for-the-love-of-the-emo-trinity-just-leave-me-alone" stage. You wished everyone would stop acting like middle school was such a big leap for you--"Ooh, separate classes, eh? Can ya handle it?"--and, for you fellow homeschoolers out there, wished to death that those same old people would stop going "Oh, you're still doing that homeschool thing, are you? When will you start going to real school?"

And then, high school. First of all, it was nothing like Disney Channel said it would be. Second of all, it didn't feel much different than middle school--until the semester flipped and suddenly stuff got real. You're dealing with a bunch of different classes, which you're not only trying to pass, but also get extra credit for in order to look good to colleges. And then, when the little girly cliques come to you with petty drama, it's all you can do to just

But you have other problems, like those comments from adults about how big you're getting--"You're so tall!" "What grade are you in now?" "So, do you have any special someones yet? *adolescent giggle*" And then there's the demands of the world around you: your parents want you to be more responsible, your friends want you to hang out more, your preferred colleges want you to study more, and your body wants you to sleep more, and you're just working your very very hardest--and then the school sends out that report card and you just

And then. For those blessed, poor souls who made it to college. It is the best of times (mostly just those two moments when you receive the acceptance letter and when you receive your diploma) and it is the worst of times (mainly every other second besides). High school was a laugh. It was a joke. It was a catered, moonlit ride down that one river in Amsterdam from The Fault in Our Stars. Every honors class you took, every extra credit project you conjured up, every pointless club meeting you attended is nothing compared to the bare minimum expected from your professors. And that schedule...what creature on earth has a sleeping pattern that coincides with those class times? Oh, and let's not even glance at any bills--student loans, car payments, regular funds for food and clothing, etc.--or else we'll just

Ah. Such a happy outlook on the rest of the school year now, right? I know that sobbing Michael Scott gif gets me in a good mood.

But don't worry; I'm just kidding. All of this is coming from a girl who's been homeschooled the past five years of her life--I can't pretend to know anything about the public middle/high school life. And I certainly can't even begin to fathom the pains--and joys--of college life.

And so, I salute you. I salute you, third graders racing into a bright and brand-new school year. I salute you, sixth graders, marching diligently into The Black Parade. I certainly salute you, high schoolers, preparing your altars to sacrifice your siblings for that A-. And I hold my hand over my heart and sing the National Anthem (the one by Lana Del Rey, not the actual national anthem--that'd be silly, wouldn't it?) in honor of you, college students, who'd trade away both kidneys for a solid eight hours of sleep. I salute you all.

(P.S. OMGOMGOMG THANK YOUUU GUYSSS SO MUCHHH FOR 70 FOLLOWERS! YAYAYAYAY THANK YOUUU okay I will stop screaming and fangirling and go cinch up all this giveaway stuff as a thanks ^^)

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