School Supplies and Introspection

I watched yet another movie today with that same musical scene where one of the main characters walks down a busy street in soul searching reflection. The scene always starts with unfamiliar faces walking toward the camera as a sad song plays. Then in the crowd, the main character’s face distinguishes itself from the rest, as he or she looks introspective.

And after I left the theater, my husband and I went to the store to buy school supplies. Of course I waited until the last minute to buy them. And I won’t use the excuse that I was too busy to do it sooner. Of course I’m busy. Everyone is busy. But yesterday, when I should have gone to the store to get the deed done, I just couldn’t do it. I got tired just thinking about it. So I drove home in soul searching reflection, telling myself that this must be how lazy people feel. They know what they should do, and they don’t. And I told myself that the only difference between me and lazy people are our actions. Then I laid down on the couch with my laptop and wrote.

Being that I’m in a writing class, you might think of writing as a productive thing to do. But the truth is, I don’t earn a living at it and no one is depending on me to get it done. I do it because it is as relaxing an escape for me as a bubble-bath and a romance novel is to some of my friends. So I’m not delusional. I know that being at that store on the Sunday night before school starts was a bad situation created by none other than my own lazy, selfish choices.

So there I was. I had just gotten out of the movie with the reflective-music-busy-street-walking scene, and I found myself in the dismal discount store with the rest of the procrastinating parents. And we all looked haggard and stressed. And we would have been pushy and rude, but we didn’t have any fight in us. And I know why. Because the supply list requires brads in the folders. Pockets and brads. And teachers have asked for pockets and brads for as long as my kids have been in school. And every year, there is box after box full of folders with no brads. Those folders are colorful and have sports team logos on them. They come with a wide variety of colors and designs on the front. They are a great way for your student to express their individuality. But they don’t have brads.

And you get pushed along the school-supply aisle faster than you can search for the items on your list, because other parents need what is just beyond you. So you move a little to let them get what they need, and then someone is behind them, and you move a little more, still trying to look back at the pencils to see how many packs of 8 or 3 that you will need to get the 43 called for on the list. But before you can decide what combination of regular and mechanical pencils your child will want, you have been pushed past the grading pencils, the dividers, the binders and the clipboards. (I want to know what supply list calls for clipboards? I have a junior in high school and have yet to need one of those.) And before you know it, you are pushed out the other end, your basket is empty and you have to circle around to start over.

But, things are looking up in the old Stewart household. The store still had most of what was on the school-supply list. And it was on the school-supply aisle that I had that moment. That moment when your blog topic occurs to you. Even if you don’t blog you know what I mean. Everyone has a funny rant every now and then.

I had been pushed out of the aisle for about the fourth time, and I found myself looking back down at the faces of the parents. At that moment, they looked like the faces on a busy street. And then, the face I was searching for came into focus. My husband, red-eyed and irritated, reflecting on the shortage of folders with brads, I’m sure. If a sad song had been playing, it would have been a scene right out of a movie. Someone should put a school-supply shopping scene into a movie. But movie makers, please don’t let the scene go on too long. I get tired just thinking about it.