Nan

6:30am the alarm goes off. "Really?" I think.  This is the start of the school year and I cannot believe how quickly it has crept upon me. In an odd way, I have been excited for this moment.  Routine is always something I enjoy. Yet, perhaps despite my craving for more cognitive activity, I am sad to roll out of bed and into the shower.

The first stop once things are in place and my bag is packed up is Starbucks.  It is a ritual I enjoy.  I love going into the dark cafe, smelling the coffee, seeing the same local old men holding court over the tables, and standing in line pretending I don't already know what I am going to order. Grande Skinny Vanilla Latte is my drink of choice. Ah, to hold it in my hand is delightful.  I can practically taste this beverage.  Am I an addict?  I like to think my addiction to coffee is not an addiction to the caffeine but to this whole cafe experience. It makes me feel chic and puts me in a good mood to face the day.  I just wish Starbucks wasn't so expensive per cup. Downsizing to a tall might be the answer, no?

Coffee hand, I head to pick up a co-worker on our way in for Teacher Boot-camp.  Coming down his block this little, black animal comes walking out into the street.  It's movement is erratic and it might be a raccoon.  Slowing down to a roll, and then to a stop, the animal walks into my tire. I get out and along with Robin, we quickly assess the situation. It is blind, tiny, stray dog that has wandered away from home.  We decide we will be late for work and begin our detective mission.  The dog has tags but none of them have its name or home number.  We call the vet number from its rabies tag and bingo!  The dog's name is Nan and surprisingly the address the vet gives us is for the house across from the car (from the yard she stumbled away from).  But, no one is home.  We drive little, old, stinky Nan to her vet and know that no matter what happens she should be in good hands now.

In a funny way, going back to school can feel like being blind. You sort of show up, stumble around, listen to everything around you but feel separate from it all. In the darkness you fear the unknown year that is about to begin. Then someone reaches out a protective hand or maybe makes an important connection for you to your course and your stumbling stops.  You can relax and feel like you are home and no just stumbling in the dark down some random block in Brookline.