Patricia Steffy from the 1986 Yearbook

There’s something about the start of a new school year (and the rise of September) that still impacts me even though my last day in a classroom is a distant memory. Is it because I spent the first half of my life in school? Is it because I keep seeing back to school shopping commercials on TV? Is it because I’ve already started factoring the return of school buses into my drive times? I don’t know what triggers it, but I can feel it.

I want to go shopping for my back to school clothes. I won’t, of course, because a) I’m financially-challenged at the moment and b) I’m a writer; who would see them? But there is no doubt that I still feel the season changing mentally (certainly not physically as it was nearly 80 degrees in my apartment at 6:30 this morning), and I want to pick up my new pair of penny loafers.

Even though fall is traditionally a season not known for new beginnings (but rather a slow decay into barrenness of winter), I’ve always loved it. I grew up in Ohio, and nature does fall particularly well there. And for some reason, again probably having to do with the school year, there is something “new” about September.

Maybe I still see it as a time where I will renew my efforts to succeed at something. Whatever it is, today I found myself thinking about what my goals would be for the new year. And it is quite clear that my brain was not projecting itself to January.

What will I do? What will I achieve? What will I change? All of these questions came at me this morning. Are you feeling it, too? Do you still mentally respond to the new school year?

P.S. Yes, I’m serious. That photo is from 1986, not 1886. As you can see, I was just as much fun then as I am now.